Inevitability
by LostInLost18
Summary: Flashforward/Vampire Diaries c/over. When the world blacks out, Damon and Elena are shocked to learn they are in each other's futures...in love. With their worlds shaken, at first a future together seems impossible. But nothing is ever set in stone. AU.
1. A Flash of Fate

**Inevitability**

**A Damon && Elena fic**

Summary: A Flashforward/Vampire Diaries crossover, although it only really refers to the world created in Vampire Diaries. Elena is more confused when, after the world blacks out, why her vision of the future involves Damon. Some will fight their future, others will succumb, which leads to the million dollar question - do you fight what you know is coming, or do you try and reach for it? DELENA/FORWOOD. In the actual show the date of the flash-forwards are October 6th but I've made it a little later, just after Vicki's death and after Stefan and Elena reunite, but she never discovers the picture of Katherine, so the trip to Georgia never happens. It's AU in any case.

* * *

><p>Chapter 1: A Flash of Fate<p>

"I'm literally five seconds away," Elena said, smiling down at her phone, as if he could see it. "How can I tell? Well, I can see you, Stefan; it's kind of a giveaway." Her smile dropped. "What's Damon doing here?"

"I can hear the insult in your tone and am charmed by it," Damon called, giving her a wave. "It's lovely to see you too, Elena."

Elena approached the Grille with a mixture of wariness and suspicion. Wherever Damon went, pain and misery usually followed. Usually, she reserved judgement on people until she got to know them better but Damon's actions spoke louder than words. She didn't want to get to know him. He was trouble and both she and Stefan knew it, yet he refused to leave town.

She smiled warmly at Stefan and ran into his embrace. He kissed the side of her neck and she made a low contented noise, which Damon - being Damon - picked up on and made a nauseated sound in response.

"How are you?" Elena asked, looking up at him. "You look…"

"Thirsty?" Damon chipped in. "Broody? Boring? Irritating?" He smirked. "I could give you a ton of adjectives to describe Stefan. None of them are positive though…nor polite, if I think about it…"

She shot him a dirty look. "I was going for good, actually," she replied coldly. "Not that it's any of your business. What are you doing here anyway? Stefan and I are on a date. Dates usually involve just the two people."

"Oh, I thought I'd come by and ruin the moment," Damon said airily. "I'm kidding… I was here before Stefan showed up. Had I known I was interrupting a 'moment' I would've left you two to it." He patted Stefan on the shoulder. "Go get her, tiger."

Stefan rolled his eyes but refrained from commenting. He smiled at Elena and kissed her lips tenderly, to which she eagerly responded. She wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, only breaking it to stare up at his gorgeous eyes. Then, hand in hand, they walked inside the Grille to get some lunch. They spotted Damon by the bar and immediately changed direction to head towards seats which were as far away from him as possible.

"I don't like him being here, Stefan," Elena grumbled, slinging her bag down on the seat before sliding in next to it.

"I know," Stefan soothed. "Just ignore him. He'll get bored and go home soon enough."

"We both know when he's bored he doesn't go home," Elena pointed out, but she sighed and let it go…for now. "After this whole Vicki mess, I'm surprised he has the balls to look me in the eye."

"Some good came out of it, though," Stefan pointed out. "Jeremy's doing school work; he's no longer suffering. Surely that's a good thing?"

"It is but admitting it will mean admitting Damon actually did a good thing," Elena grumbled. "I'm not so sure he deserves to have a good deed chalked up next to his name just yet."

He chuckled and lay his hands on top of hers, smiling at her.

"Let's forget about it," he suggested. "We'll hang out for a bit, maybe grab some lunch later and then go for a walk."

"I like that," she said, grinning. "You're on."

* * *

><p>Bonnie and Caroline entered the Grille not long after Elena and Stefan. Talking loudly about dresses for the upcoming decades dance, Caroline plonked herself down in a seat and started fiercely quizzing Bonnie about her outfit, to which Bonnie had no proper answer.<p>

"I've got this cute dress," she offered lamely. "What decade is this dance again?"

"Honestly, am I the only one who actually pays attention to stuff like this anymore?" Caroline asked crossly. "It's the fifties, Bonnie, and you are not going to wear a dress which only rates as 'cute' on the sexy scale. I think a serious shopping trip is in order."

"Not another one," Bonnie moaned. "Caroline, you've run me ragged these past few weeks just searching for your outfit. I'm not a shopping girl and you know it. I'm sure if I root around I can find something."

"Do you want a boyfriend?" Caroline challenged. "Dances are like mating grounds for humans."

Bonnie giggled. "_Mating grounds? _Someone's been watching the Discovery Channel too many times."

"Hey, in fairness there's a cute presenter on one of the programmes," Caroline said, unabashed. "Now, stop changing the subject and let me help you accessorise your so-called cute outfit." She flashed her a smirk. "I happen to be somewhat of an expert when it comes to fashion."

Bonnie shook her head, wondering if the word no existed in Caroline's vocabulary at all. Her smile faded as she saw Damon walk towards them, his trademark smirk all over his face.

"Ladies…" He gave Caroline a quick, curt nod, before flashing a smile at Bonnie. "And how are we this morning?"

"Ugh, I'm out of here," Bonnie announced, throwing Damon a disgusted look. "Want to take a walk or something?"

"Sure," Caroline said, leaping fluently to her feet. "I didn't like the view here anyway," she added, throwing a smirk at Damon which temporarily threw him off guard.

"Can't dodge me forever," he called in their direction, feeling a bit redundant.

Stretching, Damon wandered around the general area for a bit, picking up on conversations for his general amusement. He saw Stefan and Elena and debated whether or not to go over and annoy them both. They were just so full of love it made him sick. He wasn't jealous; how could he be, when the love of his life was literally only minutes away (albeit she was in a tomb, probably desiccating by now)? But still, he didn't need their perfect, fairytale romance shoved down his throat every five seconds. They were in love - he got that loud and clear.

Elena caught his eye. Out of habit, his mouth twitched into a smirk. Frowning, she turned away, before performing this weird, very fake laugh, as if something Stefan had said had made her laugh. He knew why she was doing it; her attempts at making him jealous were as obvious as they were pathetic. The big giveaway was the fact you could never incorporate laughter and Stefan in the same sentence. It just didn't work.

He looked at his watch. It was a few minutes until ten. He was bored. He needed a new challenge to brighten up his day. Ideally, he would've been doing something to piss off Stefan but Elena's presence oddly did something to him he couldn't explain. When he was around her, he found he wanted to be a better person, so he tried to be around her as little as possible. Being bad kicked ass so much more than being good anyway.

Finally bored of the Grille, he made to leave the area, deciding at least at home he could skulk around and be his naughty self without having to deal with questioning stares or, even worse, questions. He didn't get very far, however, when a strange sensation came over him. An overpowering sense came over him and he fell to his knees before his entire body collapsed on the ground.

His last conscious thought was one of utter confusion and bewilderment. This kind of stuff didn't happen to him, the eternal stud! He prided himself on being the strong, invincible sibling and now he'd just dropped like that. What was happening?

He had the strangest sense what was happening was beyond unusual - like his type of unusual, only stranger. And his lingering thought as he went down - which confused him to no end - was whether or not anyone would miss him if this lapse in consciousness was really his mediocre way of succumbing to death…

* * *

><p>"So, will you go to this dance with me?" Elena asked, smiling at him.<p>

"Me? Dancing? Not such a good idea," Stefan joked. "I tend to stiffen up when I'm on the dance floor. I never was good at it."

"You danced just fine at the Lockwood's," Elena pointed out. "You just don't like dancing."

"True," he agreed genially. "But if you want to go, I'll take you."

"Really? I'm not asking for too much am I?" She frowned. "I sound like a needy girlfriend. Am I a needy girlfriend?"

He kissed her hands, one at a time.

"Absolutely not," he murmured. "I love you, Elena. I want to make you happy."

"I love you too," she whispered back. "I'll be right back," she added, suddenly squirming in her seat, looking apologetic. "Nature calls."

He released her. "Hurry back."

"I will," she promised, giving him a proper smacker of a kiss on his lips.

She scurried towards the bathroom, a big smile plastered on her face. There was no Damon in sight - excellent. She looked around at everyone's smiling faces, wondering if there was something in the air which made today seem wonderful. That thought changed when she heard something smash behind her. Alarmed, she turned and saw people falling out of their seats.

Her own legs started to cave. She couldn't walk any further and this overwhelming sensation travelled over her, passing into her bloodstream as her eyes rolled back and she fell to the ground, her head hitting the wooden floor none too gently.

That was when the weird part happened. One minute, she was in the Grille, staring up at the ceiling, and the next she was somewhere else. Her home to be precise, specifically in the lounge.

"_Can I get you anything else?" a familiar voice called from the kitchen. _

"_Only you," she teased, sitting on the couch, staring lovingly ahead, her eyes filled with longing and devotion. _

Oh. This must be something to do with Stefan, except the voice she'd just heard didn't match his.

_Damon emerged from behind the corner, carrying a glass of water presumably for her. She smiled at him - _Wait. What? - _and blew him a kiss. He pretended to catch it and then, unexpectedly, pretended to eat it. Pouting, she waited until he'd sat next to her, before pouncing on him, her hands working their way around his neck._

"_What are you doing?" he demanded, amused. _

"_Trying to seduce you," she admitted. "Is it working?"_

"_It's borderline sexual assault," he informed her, smirking. "Not that I mind being used and abused…." _

_"Damon!"_

_But instead of going off on one at him, she threw her arms around him and kissed him fiercely, the only other sound being the crackling of the fire as they cuddled up, clearly very much in love. _

Her eyes snapped open. She lay sprawled on the floor, barely hearing the screams and faint sounds of crying in the background. What the hell had just happened? She turned her head slowly, noticing someone - who'd queued behind her when fetching a drink - lay beside her, their neck twisted at an odd angle, blood pooling around their head.

That was when her whole body jerked upwards, a hysterical gasp bursting from her like she'd just been exorcised. Her eyes searched for Stefan; instead, what she got was a worried looking Damon peering over at her.

"You okay?" he asked anxiously.

"I'm fine," she replied groggily, sounding anything but.

He helped her to her feet, her eyes continuing to search the room. She had a million questions bursting from her tongue, and her head felt like it had just surfaced out of a very deep, impenetrable sleep. She looked at Damon, for once no traces of hostility on her face, and tried to figure out what had just happened. What she'd experienced had to have been a dream… except it had felt more vivid, more real than a dream.

"Elena!" Stefan called, hurrying over to her. "You okay?"

He saw the gash on her forehead and instinctively fought against the age old instinct buried deep inside him to attack. The blood had its own tantalising scent and there was so much of it around him. He closed his eyes and felt like he didn't know which way to turn.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Elena replied, distressed. "What - What happened? Everyone just seemed to collapse at the same time."

Damon suddenly resurfaced, although she hadn't spotted him leave, his smirk, for once, nowhere to be seen. His eyebrows were tightly knitted together and his lips were pressed into a hard line.

"Whatever's happened, it's happened to the rest of the town too by the looks of things," he said grimly.

Elena and Stefan exchanged a look before bursting through the door and staring at the town with a quiet kind of horror. There were loud screams still piercing the sky, as well as huge flames which were engulfing buildings. The reason for the flames lay in the various overturned cars which had been on the road at the time. Bodies were scattered here and there. It looked like a scene plucked straight from an apocalyptic novel.

"Oh my…" Elena couldn't finish her own sentence.

She clapped a frightened hand over her mouth and turned towards Stefan, hoping he could pluck some explanation out of the air to reassure her, but his face remained blank with shock. She reluctantly turned to Damon, hoping he could enlighten her, but his face resembled the face of someone trying to work out a difficult equation. They were all struggling to come to terms with what had happened.

"Elena!"

Two sets of arms threw themselves around her, forcing her to stagger back with alarm. She saw a set of blonde hair and a set of brown and returned the hug, just so thankful that her two best friends seemed to be alive and unhurt.

"You girls okay?" Stefan asked, looking immediately concerned.

Bonnie nodded, stepping back.

"I'm not," Caroline complained, pointing to a large scratch on the side of her face. "That's going to take weeks to heal! What the hell happened anyway? One minute we're crossing the road and the next we're lying in the middle of it!"

Elena gasped. "How did you guys survive without getting hit by a car or something?"

"One narrowly missed us," Bonnie explained. "But we managed to get to our feet in time to miss the oncoming bus. You're bleeding…" She retrieved a tissue from her bag. "Here."

Elena took it gratefully, dabbing at her wound whilst continuing to survey the damage. She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes as she saw the flames tear down a building before her eyes. She reached for Stefan's hand and leaned her head against his shoulder, struggling to fathom what had happened.

"What do we do?" Caroline asked, her voice bubbling over with panic. "This is just… This is just unreal!"

"We need to find out if the people we care about are okay," Bonnie said, taking charge. "I'll see if my Grams and dad are alright."

"Yeah, better see if my mom's okay. She's on duty." Caroline walked off, retrieving her phone as she did so.

"You okay, brother?" Damon asked Stefan, looking uncharacteristically concerned.

Stefan stared at the town, his eyes widening and narrowing in equal measures as he tried to absorb what had just happened. Elena was on the phone, trying to get hold of Jeremy and Jenna without much luck.

"They're not answering," she said shakily. "Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. What if they're…?"

Stefan immediately took her inside his arms.

"Relax," he murmured to her. "I'm sure they're fine. Look, I'll take you home, okay?"

She nodded her head, her entire body shaking like mad. She stared at Damon, who really did seem to be in shock. In a weird sort of way, it was almost touching to see him like this, see that raw kind of emotion on his face. He turned and caught her staring, immediately changing his expression to one of supreme indifference.

"Damon, I'm taking Elena home," Stefan said, also staring at his brother. "Do me a favour and try and help. Don't do what you always do and drink yourself out of feeling guilty."

"As if I ever do that!" Damon responded indignantly.

And without another word, he disappeared like a shot.

"How does something like this happen?" Elena asked, staring ahead, the screams never ending.

"I don't know." Stefan's face was twisted with shock. "But we've gotta get out of here."

"Why?"

"The blood for one," Stefan told her, with a grimace for a smile. "And two, didn't you want to find out about Jenna and Jeremy?"

"Right…" Elena snapped herself out of her trance. "Let's go."

They broke into a run as they made their way out of the Grille. Elena nearly ran into a broken looking Mrs Sharpe, an old friend of her parent's, who stared blankly at Elena who ran past.

"My son…" she croaked. "My son…"

Unable to do anything, Elena muttered some comforting words, before sidestepping the broken woman, and continuing with her relentless pursuit to find answers. Stefan was beside her, mentioning something about he could run ahead and see for himself how they were doing but she shook her head, merely saying she had to find them first, had to see for herself what the situation was.

She stormed into the house and saw Jenna lying unconscious on the floor of the kitchen, the fall obviously being the reason behind her prolonged state of unconsciousness.

"I'll get her to the couch, you go and find Jeremy," Stefan commanded.

Elena nodded, and then charged up the stairs, bursting through Jeremy's door to find him on his computer - of all things - with his headphones on. A mixture of irritation and relief filled her head. Steadying herself, she inhaled a few times, for stress relief mostly, before storming across the room and yanking the headphones off of Jeremy.

"Hey!" he protested. "What the hell?"

"Check the news," she snapped, dragging him down the stairs.

She flicked on the television set, which immediately showed some horrific images of the devastation that had happened, not just in Mystic Falls it seemed, around the world.

"Oh my…" Elena sunk into a chair.

"Fuck." Jeremy couldn't think of anything cleaner to say. "Is that - ? I thought I'd just passed out; I didn't know the world had as well." He sat on the armrest of the chair Elena was sitting on. "What, _everyone_ blacked out at the same time? How the hell is that even possible?"

"You tell me. I have no theories," Elena said shortly, irritably.

"Vicki…." Jeremy looked alarmed. "She's out of town. I've gotta call her. She might be hurt."

"Wait…" Elena grabbed his arm. "Matt's probably on that right now. Look, Jenna's still out for the count, we need to stay indoors until we get more information. This could happen again!"

Jeremy looked at her, his head spinning wildly, but figuring she made some sense, he sat back down, burying his head in his hands as he tried to figure all of this out.

"Shit… Matt!" Elena suddenly flew up off the seat, retrieving her phone from her pocket.

The phone rang a few times before his frightened voice answered.

"_Hello?" _

"Matt….It's Elena," she answered, each syllable coming out tense and wobbly. "Are you okay?"

"_I'm alive, if that's what you mean. Elena, what the hell's going on? One minute I'm on my way to the Grille, the next I'm lying on the pavement, staring at what I can only describe as Mystic Falls' own Armageddon."_

Her chest tightened. "Have you seen the news yet?"

"_No, why?"_

"It's not just Mystic Falls, Matt. This thing's happened everywhere. Everyone blacked out, apparently."

On the other end of the line, Matt let out a stream of profanities. She could picture his face, which would've been pale, conveying a mixture of shock, panic and confusion.

"_Is that even possible?"_

"I don't know," she replied, looking at Stefan for support. "I guess all we can do now is sit indoors and keep the news on, see if they provide an explanation as to what's happened."

_"Right… Okay. I'm almost home now. I'll put it on."_

And just like that, he'd rung off.

"Where's Damon?" Elena asked, unable to process anything at the moment.

"Helping… I hope," Stefan replied, immediately by her side, pulling her into his arms. "It'll be okay, Elena. We'll be fine."

"I know that." She gazed up at him, her eyes spilling over with frightened tears. "But the rest of the world won't."

* * *

><p>"<em>It's a devastating image. In a rare moment of horrific unity, the entire world - every village, every town, every city - blacked out for two minutes and seventeen seconds. When that same world woke up, it woke up to utter devastation. Millions dead. Cities wreathed in flames. Hundreds of thousands missing in the wake of it all…."<em>

"This is awful," Carole Lockwood sobbed, staring at the television screen in front of her eyes. "I can't get a hold of Richard and Tyler's not answering his phone."

"They'll be fine, Carole," Damon reassured her, handing her a drink. "With all that's happened, it'll take a while for this town to find its feet again. I'm sure you're not the only looking for loved ones."

"True," Carole said, sniffing, taking the drink off of him. "In Richard's absence, I've made several calls to neighbouring towns and villages who weren't as badly affected, so some help should be coming. For now, I've got every able bodied man out digging through the wreckage."

"I've done what I can for now," Damon told her. "I hope to join the other rescue parties soon."

Carole nodded, looking gratefully at him. She sipped at her drink, her hands shaking slightly.

"You know…." Damon hesitated, looking down at his hands. "I've heard reporters calling the things we saw during the blackout flash-forwards. Do you think that's what they are?"

"It seems crazy," Carole said, avoiding his eyes. "But everything up until now seems crazy so…." She trailed off, her eyes looking distant and hazy.

"How can people be so sure these are flash-forwards?" Damon burst out, feeling frustrated. "What gives them any authority - ?"

"The answer's coming up," Carole said, nodding towards the television screen.

The reporter - Andie Star, or whatever her name was - had a caption underneath her saying _Flash-forwards: the gift the world never saw coming._ He frowned at the pun, yet leaned forward, eager to hear.

"_As if the world hasn't suffered enough, we've learned from a top source from the L.A. Federal Bureaucracy that the visions everyone experienced during the blackout - referred to by some as hallucinations, others as a vision from God - are in fact visions into the future. Six months from now, to be precise. Everyone, all over the world, got a glimpse of their future on the day earmarked as May 20__th__. Some people I've talked to have experienced positive visions, whilst others are still reeling from the repercussions of what their visions will bring if they were to come true. The world is now asking; what do these visions mean? Will they come true? What could possibly cause the entire world to drop down at the same time, gaining a glimpse of their future into the process?"_

Damon had never paid so much attention to the news in his entire life. He glanced at Carole, whose eyes were closed. Maybe she was thinking about the news story; maybe she was just worried about her husband and her son; maybe she was thinking about how millions of lives had ended in the blink of an eye. Whatever she was thinking about, it had her quieter than he'd ever seen her before. Not that he really knew her enough to gage that kind of behaviour, but still….

And he couldn't quite wrap around his head around the vision he'd seen. It was something that made no sense. It wasn't just what he'd seen, but the feelings he'd felt within those two minutes and seventeen seconds of sheer insanity. He'd felt such intense feelings of attraction - that, he could understand - and love - that, not so much - and it had his head in a spin.

He had to wonder whether these visions corroborated at all. If one person saw one thing, did the person they'd seen in it see the same thing? If so, did that mean Elena had seen the same thing?

"You know, I saw myself at my husband's funeral," Carole said, in a voice that suggested she wasn't really talking to him. "Well, it wasn't really a funeral per se. I was talking to his grave and laying down flowers." Fresh tears filled her eyes. "That can't be my future. I can't have a future without him. He's my husband."

"We don't know if these visions mean anything," Damon said, talking partly to himself. "And even if they were these…glimpses of the future, all you have to do is make sure it doesn't come true. Simple."

"What did you see?" she asked, looking curiously up at him, at his tense and somehow desperate looking face.

He let out a sigh. "Let's just say you're worried about your future coming true, whereas me? I'm worried mine won't."

And admitting that, being someone as snarky, selfish as he was, someone who was completely in love with someone else, gave him both this increased sense of certainty, and a strange concoction of guilt, anger and disbelief.

Do you chase towards a future which, although improbable, could be the key to your happiness, forsaking any other dream you may have held in your heart before (forsaking Katherine, for God's sake!), or do you fight against it, not just for yourself but for the one person you'd sworn to torment until the feud killed one of them?

* * *

><p><strong>An: This is just a start. Just to clear a few things up, I don't know the timeline of Vampire Diaries. I've never found one online so, for the sake of argument, assume the date is six months before May 20****th****, which is round about November/December. We'll say November. You don't really need to have seen the show **_**Flashforward**_** to get this because I won't really be mentioning any of the characters on the show, except for later on, and even then they'll be mentioned in one tiny scene. The next chapter really delves into the sheer devastation of what has happened and we'll find out what other people saw. **


	2. Never Say Never

Chapter 2: Never Say Never

* * *

><p>Elena was right beside Jenna when she stirred, wondering how she was going to break the news to her about what had happened. Jeremy was still glued to the television screen, his mouth wide open. For one wild moment, she thought maybe this was just a crazy dream, that she would wake up and find out everything was fine. No such luck.<p>

Jenna moved to sit up, her eyes rolling onto Elena's relieved expression. She frowned, detecting the concern in her niece's eyes, and pushed herself up.

"What happened?" she mumbled. "I remember falling… and hitting my head…."

"You blacked out, Jenna," Elena informed her, rubbing her shoulder and trying to look comfortable. "But then again, so did the rest of the world." "Huh?" Jenna looked blankly at her. "What are you talking about?"

"She's right, Jenna," Jeremy said, turning up the volume on the television set. "Check this out. We tell you no lies when we say this disaster is global."

Helping Jenna sit up, Elena sat beside her wary looking aunt as she regarded the news on the television, which was broadcasting images of all the world's major cities - Paris, London, Madrid, Berlin - most of which seemed to be wreathed in flames. Jenna's eyes widened, her hand grabbing Elena's as she tried to process what was going on. The news reporter, clearly looking shaken, recapped everything which had happened so far.

"What the hell?" Jenna glared at the screen. "How is that even possible?" She looked from Jeremy to Elena. "Please, someone, tell me how this is even supposed to be possible?"

"We don't know," Elena sighed heavily. "But it's happening. And it's real." She rubbed her head, wincing as she accidentally made contact with a small bump. "The entire world blacked out at exactly the same time, for exactly the same period of time. It sounds crazy but that's what happened."

"_Experts are calling May 20__th__ D-Day because, as crazy as it sounds, everyone saw a glimpse of their future six months from now. Whether these visions come true or not remains to be seen," _the reporter was saying. _"A division in the Federal Bureaucracy in L.A. have devoted themselves into finding out the cause behind the blackout and at this time would like to stress that people remain vigilante and report anything they might know about the blackout, no matter how inconsequential the detail might seem." _

"My vision won't come true, that's for sure," Jenna announced, standing up, resembling Bambi as she walked. "There, I've just solved that little mystery."

"What did you see then Jenna?" Jeremy and Elena asked as one.

Jenna opened the fridge to retrieve some juice, gazing speculatively at her niece and nephew, as if inwardly debating whether they were capable of handling the news without laughing. Then, with a casual shrug, she poured herself a drink and rejoined them in the living room.

"If you must know, I saw myself getting an ultrasound," she said, trying to act like it was no big deal. "I was pregnant." She let out a snort of laughter. "As if I can handle being a parent. It's _so_ not going to happen. I can barely handle you two, and you're not even mine."

"True," Jeremy joked, causing Jenna to throw a cushion at him. "Hey! You made a point and I just agreed."

"I think you'd be a good mother," Elena said, thinking about it.

"I'd be terrible. I can't even cook for myself," Jenna said bluntly. "I burn every meal, I break down when I can't handle stuff, and I swore to myself I'd never be one of those authority figures." She took a swig of juice and shuddered. "Me…a mom? Ugh, never. And besides," she added, thinking about it carefully. "It seems a little too…modern age to me that I'd find a guy, fall in love, and get pregnant within six months." She snorted. "It's complete nonsense. God, why does my vision have to make me look like a teenage pregnancy case?"

She went off on a tangent, mumbling underneath her breath something about unrealistic visions and sex crazed men knocking her up.

Elena smiled, then turned her attention to the screen again.

"_The question on everybody's mind is whether or not these so-called premonitions can be changed. Are these visions set in stone or are they merely a warning? I'm Andie Star. Back to you in the studio."_

"This is insane," Jeremy muttered, tossing the remote control aimlessly from one hand to the other. "How can everyone have blacked out at the same time? It makes no sense."

"Experiment gone wrong?" Elena suggested. "Aliens?" She shrugged. "I'm out."

"Maybe it was God," Jenna added, snorting her disbelief at her own particular theory. "I'm just glad you two are safe. Not that I even knew what was happening…" She wrapped a loose arm around Elena's shoulder, pulling her in tight. "See, this is further proof I am not cut out to be a parent. If can't keep track of you during a global crisis then I shouldn't be…"

"What did you see, Jeremy?" Elena asked, cutting across Jenna's self-critical babbling.

"It was weird." Jeremy swivelled around to face her. "I was with this girl. I have no idea who she is. She had dark hair, beautiful eyes, and yet I knew she was dangerous. We were playing pool at the Grille." He sprung over to the couch next to her. "I wish I knew her name but I come up blank every time I try to figure out who she is. I've not seen her around school before, so maybe she transfers here from another area?"

"That's nice," Jenna said appreciatively. "You need a nice girl in your life, Jeremy."

"As opposed to what? Vickie?" Jeremy glared up at Jenna.

"Easy," Jenna said, putting up her hands defensively. "I'm not implying that she's not a nice girl…"

"Yeah? It sounds like you are," Jeremy said, his voice thick with ice as he proceeded to storm out.

Jenna looked at Elena, her eyes filled with resignation.

"See," she said, somewhat sadly. "I can't handle my own nephew. How the hell can I handle a baby?"

And with a heavy sigh, she also left the room, presumably to try and fix the damage done with such a simple remark. Elena slid further down the couch, debating whether or not to text Stefan, who'd said something about going out to help salvage the town. She knew it wasn't probably wise to dwell on what they'd seen, but she couldn't help it. Everyone had seen the same day, the same time, and yet there was no definitive proof they would come true. It could've been just a freakish coincidence they'd all seen the exact same day… Or, maybe not. Maybe she was just being incredibly naïve about the whole thing but, without another experience like this to refer back to, there was no way of being sure about anything.

With a heavy sigh to match Jenna's, she slid off the couch so she was sitting on the floor, picking up the control so she could flick to a news channel which might - might being the operative word - have more information she could go on.

As hard as she tried, she couldn't think of a single, plausible reason to suggest what would go so horribly wrong between her and Stefan that she'd end up turning to Damon for comfort and falling in love with him.

* * *

><p>Damon was walking around the town which now resembled a bomb site, his mind flooded with questions. He felt so conflicted, unsure about which emotion he was supposed to be feeling. He'd come into this town to destroy it, yet the sight of its near destruction gave him very little pleasure.<p>

There was a woman lying across the pavement, a trail of blood running down her face, her eyes wide open with terror. She'd clearly not seen anything, nor would she ever see anything ever again. Bending down, he examined her carefully, hesitantly reaching over to close her eyelids in a tender gesture which threw him completely off guard.

"What are you doing?" a familiar voice asked.

He rose fluently to his feet, trying to ignore the wave of emotion inside his chest. He stared at Stefan without really seeing him; he knew, somehow, within the space of six months, he was going to end up breaking his brother's heart. Whilst ordinarily that would've given him an intense amount of pleasure, it also meant during that time he would've utterly disregarded Katherine, which he just couldn't imagine.

"A failed and feeble attempt at doing the right thing," he admitted. "If you've come to gloat, I suggest you reconsider. The world has lost billions of people. I'm sure one more wouldn't make a difference."

"That's quite a sick joke, Damon," Stefan said, looking faintly angry. "I just asked you a simple question."

"I don't need you breathing down my neck," Damon snapped. "I wasn't going to feed, if that's what you were thinking."

"I never said - "

"What you say and what you imply are typically two different things, Stefan," Damon said, patting his brother on the shoulder as he passed him. "Don't get them mixed up."

"Where are you going?" Stefan demanded, a note of concern in his voice.

Damon stopped, looking up at the sky as if the answer was magically there.

"I need to clear my head," he eventually answered. "Everyone's world may have stopped but mine's still spinning. I've got some things to figure out."

Stefan didn't even try to stop him. He just let him walk away. Damon wasn't one to think about things too much. His deeds were marks of his moments of irrationality. Hell, he'd turned Vicki Donovan because he was bored, so what did that say about him? He was not human. He didn't experience moments of regret, moments of guilt, because he didn't allow himself to feel them. But that didn't mean they weren't there, shoved to the back of his mind like a box of memories saved for future generations to explore.

Damon had no clue where his feet were taking him. He had no particular direction in mind, and he was very much aware that he really, really needed a stiff drink. It wasn't until he had stopped that he realized his body had managed to fool him.

He was standing outside Elena's house.

Looking like an awkward teenager - feeling like one too - he approached the house with his hands in his pockets. They at least needed to talk about what they'd seen, but he had the sneaking suspicion she would not want to see him at all. There was the dark possibility maybe what they'd been doing in the 'vision' - he despised the word, it reeked of vagueness - hadn't been an exclusive thing. Maybe they'd been going behind Stefan's back, which made him feel slightly worse than before.

It was weird. He didn't experience fear. There were many instances where he'd grappled with death yet had come out of it with the same self-satisfied look he had prepared for every occasion.

But preparing to talk to Elena about a future that may or may not be coming true?

It was the scariest damn thing he'd ever had to do.

* * *

><p>"I got it, Mom," Caroline said, clutching her phone to her ear whilst simultaneously trying to juggle straightening her hair (yeah, she had her priorities right) and keep her scratch from bleeding. "You're going to be late home. Yeah… didn't really need a vision of the future to see that coming."<p>

And she hung up.

Sure, that last comment may have been a bit harsh but she wasn't really thinking straight. The hair appliance had literally jumped out of her hands at one point all because she'd been thinking too hard, and that wasn't an activity she could lay a claim to fame to. She'd felt jumpy ever since the blackout, which was a good few hours ago now. The reports kept coming, each new story piling onto the next one, so that literally her brain had so much information in, she didn't know what to process first.

She took a few moments to consider what she'd seen. Though she - and Bonnie would back her up on this - held a lot of scorn for anything paranormal, or something you couldn't rationally explain, her entire world and belief system had been shaken. How could you explain the entire world dropping like flies? You couldn't, not unless someone came forward and gave a rational explanation by implicating themselves in the mess (which they'd be crucified for if they did, so it was a safe assumption the person responsible wouldn't be stepping forward anytime soon).

_She looked up and saw him standing there, his brow furrowed as he looked at her. He was trying to say something, his mouth clearly unable to release any words and, in an instant, she was up next to him, wrapping her arms around him. _

"_We'll get through this, Tyler," she promised him. "I don't know how but we will."_

_His chin rested on her shoulder and she gently stroked the back of his head as she tried to calm his shaking body. They stood there, just holding each other, completely lost in the moment._

Caroline shook her head, her hands shaking at the memory. Well, it wasn't technically a memory…yet. She wouldn't say she loathed Tyler, but he wasn't on her Christmas card list. Actually, scratch that. She did hate him. She knew he found her irritating, easy to wind up, and, in her eyes, every time he opened his mouth, he came out with an arrogant comment which made her want to punch him, and so this image of them together had her rattled.

Itching to tell someone, she picked up the phone, her instincts telling her to call Bonnie yet she found herself dialling Elena's number instead. Maybe it was because she knew Elena would be less judgemental than Bonnie. Whatever the reason, she knew Elena was always at hand to have a good moan to. You know, when she wasn't hanging around Stefan giving him that puppy dog look of love.

She answered on the first ring. _"Caroline?"_

"Who else?" Caroline joked weakly. "Listen, I gotta get something off my chest. I want to tell someone what I saw. It's been driving me crazy."

"_Okay… It's not like you ever kept a secret for long anyway."_

"Right. So in my flash-forward…." She winced at the word. "I was hugging Tyler Lockwood. Weird, right?"

"_Very weird. I thought you guys hated each other."_

"It's not hate," Caroline hedged. "More like mutual dislike. On an intense scale. A scale where one end sees me wanting to hit him in the face every time he opens his mouth, and the other sees me hanging him over a cliff edge."

"_I get it, Car." _Elena nervously laughed. "_You're freaked because you think this means you'll end up together. You don't know you will. Look, how are we supposed to know these visions will come true? Our futures don't control us, we control them."_

"I suppose." Caroline sat on her bed, biting her lip. "But I felt really different in the vision. Stronger. More confident. Powerful, even. It was so strange. I suppose that was the only thing I liked about it, that I wasn't so needy and shallow. But me and Tyler? That's like putting you and Damon together!"

There was an elongated pause, followed by a nervous laugh on Elena's end, which immediately made Caroline scrunch up her eyes in suspicion.

"What did you see, Elena?"

"_I was…with Stefan. We were at the Grille. That was all."_

"Uh-huh. I can practically smell the guilt coming off of you," Caroline accused. "Come on, 'fess up. It's not like I'm going to judge whatever it is."

"_Oh, you will… I know it. And I wouldn't blame you because _I'm_ judging me right now."_

"You and Damon…?" Caroline said in a hushed tone, finally figuring it out. "Seriously?" Then she frowned. "How could you, Elena? After what he's done to me?"

"_Car… It's not happened yet."_

"Oh." Caroline felt bad. "Sorry. He just gets me so riled up. He doesn't deserve anyone, least of all someone as wonderful as you."

"_Thanks… I guess. Look, Car, I've gotta go. Something's come up. I'll speak to you soon. Don't worry about the future. Look, I'll never see Damon that way, okay? So, let's just relax. Take this one day at a time." _

"Okay," Caroline said, visibly relaxing. "Talk to you soon. Love ya."

"_Back at ya." _

Caroline hung up and decided now was the perfect time for a drink. She could raid her mother's secret stash - let's face it, the cupboard under the sink was never going to be a novel place to hide booze - and just forget the stupid vision. But she found it was like a rash on her skin - the more she scratched it, the bigger effect it had. And she realized only time would be a sure fire way to put this vision to rest once and for all.

* * *

><p>He raised a hesitant fist and knocked on the door. There was a scuffling inside - he could tell it was her - and then the door was flung open. Elena, perhaps instinctively, flinched at the sight of him.<p>

"I do just take your breath away don't I?" he couldn't resist joking.

"Damon, just go…" Elena breathed, looking panicky. "Stefan…"

"Stefan's helping the villagers. You can relax," Damon told her, amused by the conflicting emotions on her face. "He doesn't know anyway. I'm just here to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you," she said, fully intending to slam the door on his smug face.

Had he intentionally sought her out to _gloat? _What a dick.

He stopped the door with his hand, his eyes locking with hers. He tried to signal with his eyes that he came in peace, but she was resistant. He should've expected it really, considering their last but one encounter hadn't been a pleasant one.

"What is there to say?" Elena asked him.

"I know it's the last thing you want to do but we have to talk about what we both saw," Damon insisted. "I don't want there to be any…awkwardness."

"Awkwardness." Elena laughed. "Oh, why would there be any awkwardness, Damon? It's not like you used and abused my best friend, turned my brother's girlfriend just because you were bored, and killed my history teacher!"

"Must you hold all that against me?" Damon asked, his voice silky. "I know the record looks bad, but I'm not here to hurt you. Promise."

She eyed him warily but held the door open before storming inside. It wasn't like he couldn't force his way through if she refused - she wished she'd listened to Stefan that night and not allowed him into her house - and the fact he was even asking her instead of forcing himself inside confused her endlessly.

He smoothly sauntered in behind her, following her through to the lounge. She stood there, her arms folded, waiting impatiently for him to begin talking. Their eyes simultaneously scanned the room, Elena shuddering as she realized they were essentially recreating their vision, minus the part of them being in love.

"This is awkward," Damon began, grinning softly at Elena. "What we saw…"

"It doesn't mean anything," she cut across him. "It was a stupid vision. I wish I'd never seen it."

"Right…" Despite himself, Damon felt injured by her dismissive attitude. It wasn't like he was the _worst_ guy in the world. "All I'm saying is we both know where we stand. You're in love with Stefan. I'm in love with Katherine. As long as we know that, nothing has to change."

"That's the first sensible thing you've ever said to me," Elena noted scornfully.

He stared at her, feeling something stir inside him. Ignoring it, he gave her a soft chuckle, trying to pretend he found her reaction amusing rather than hurtful. He'd come over for a civil conversation, not a verbal war.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm sorry about what happened to Vickie," he said, throwing it in there. "I was pissed with Stefan for taking my ring and locking me up. I overreacted."

Elena's glare could've turned him into ashes if the proverbial _if looks could kill _policy really worked. She folded her arms even tighter, clearly showing no signs of softening.

"Anger is more my forte than yours," he noted with a chuckle.

"This was a nice little chat," she said with forced politeness, her tone clearly suggesting he should leave whilst he still had the limbs to do so.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's clearly pissing you off," Damon said. "Are you angry because it's me you saw yourself with? Or is it that you're scared that there might actually be something between us? Maybe you've already thought about the possibility of us." He walked towards her, her eyes flashing with alarm. "It's okay to admit it, Elena. I won't judge."

"I've not - " She felt flustered. "I don't believe they were flash-forwards. I think they just showed possible futures."

"Yeah?" His face was now inches away from hers. "That why you're so nervous around me? Because you think there's a possibility it could come true? You can hate me, Elena, but don't lie to me."

She dodged him neatly. "Don't make this about you, Damon."

"I'm not. Why are you so nervous around me?"

"Damn it, stop doing that!" She shoved him. Hard. "I'm nervous - as you call it - because every conversation, every moment we have could lead to that." She gestured to the couch angrily. "Let's just be clear. I don't want it to happen! I love Stefan."

"God, and don't I know it." Damon rolled his eyes. "I don't think ignoring it's gonna do any good. Something about repressing feelings and all that crap."

"Ignoring it is exactly what we're going to do," Elena told him firmly. "For all we know, it doesn't mean anything. And we're not exactly fond of each other, so how the idea of you and me falling in love came about will remain a mystery to me."

"Alright, I can see a civil conversation is off the cards." He looked displeased, which surprised her. She felt strangely guilty for being so dismissive, but he deserved to know the truth. "I'll be off."

He strode towards the door, hovering there for a moment, before turning back to stare at her.

"I like mysteries, for the record," he said slowly. "You never know what's going to happen until the bitter end."

He flashed her a rare, genuine smile, before disappearing out the door, leaving Elena looking utterly confused.

She checked to make sure Jenna and Jeremy hadn't listened in before she ran up to her room and flung herself down on the bed, for once in no mood to pick up her phone when it rang.

* * *

><p>Eager to escape the house, Jenna had ended up at the Grille which, surprisingly, had remained open. Staggered by the sheer insanity that had befallen her eyes, her mouth had remained open and her eyes upwards until she'd found herself bumping into someone.<p>

He was rugged, that much was for sure. His hair was a light, caramel brown and he had soft, sad eyes. He didn't appear much older than she was, yet time - or perhaps a great loss - had worn down his features a little, hence the rugged look. She wasn't going to complain, however; she liked men looking a little rugged, not always being prestigious with their appearances.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, unable to stop staring at him. "Me being clumsy…"

"No, it was my fault," he replied, looking down at her with a smile. "I'm Alaric Saltzman. You can call me Ric, if you like."

"I'm Jenna," she introduced, feeling a bit jittery, like she was a school girl with a crush again. "You new here?"

"Moved here a couple of weeks ago," he replied. "And this…" He gestured around him. "This seems to be my welcome party."

A nervous laugh escaped her lips.

"I was just on my way to lend a hand," he added, gesturing towards the town. "It was nice meeting you, Jenna."

He took her hand and pressed it against his lips, before walking away. Feeling giddy, Jenna kept her eyes glued to him, a secretive smile emerging on her face.

"_The baby is happy and healthy, Ms Somers," the nurse said, in a congratulatory tone. "Would you like to know the sex?"_

_Sitting in the chair, Jenna felt her eyes spill over with joyful tears. Her hands fell across her stomach - the smallest of bumps detectable - and she knew this baby was a sheer miracle. A single sob escaped her mouth. _

"_Sure," she whispered. _

"_It's a girl," the nurse told her, to which Jenna felt herself almost implode with joy. _

"_Ric will be thrilled to know," she said, leaning her head back and closing her eyes, a wide smile emerging across her face. _

Flashing back to the present - no pun intended - Jenna stared after Ric wondering if he was the same person she'd mentioned. Either the warm, fuzzy feeling inside her stomach was a confirmation, or just her stupid, non-adult hormones playing some sort of trick on her.

Still, it was stupid to think that some guy she'd just met on the street would be the person to father her child, presuming of course these visions were an accurate recollection of the future. And even if they chatted and decided to date - and that was a big if - she knew getting pregnant within six months of actually meeting someone was just not done. And the ultrasound suggested the baby had to be at least eight weeks old before they could detect the gender. So, ideally, conceiving the child had to be done fairly soon.

Laughing at herself for figuring this out, Jenna shook her head and decided it wasn't worth contemplating. It was really unlikely to happen. In fact, before today she would've said pregnancy was something she'd never put herself through.

But then the blackout happened. Millions of people had died. The impossible had become the possible.

In all fairness then, it was safe to presume the word 'never' had lost all meaning. How could you question anything when in the space of a second the world had completely stopped? What right, therefore, had you to presume anything was impossible anymore?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! Some of you have seen the show, I see, so I'm glad. I gave Jenna Janis' storyline because… Well, those who are/were avid viewers of both shows should understand where her storyline is heading. Certain aspects of the original timeline will remain the same, and I'll work up towards them, but I'll change certain things which will make sense given the global catastrophe which can be my scapegoat if you ever wonder where a certain character is. Most likely they'll either be dead, suffering, or waiting in the wings to emerge. We'll get to hear other people's stories in other chapters. Without a decent timeline to go by it's hard to gage when certain events happen, so bear with me if something seems to be out of place. Just slot it under AU, it's the easiest thing to do :P **

**Just as an added note, for those of you who have watched the show, don't spoil it for those who haven't as a courtesy. Other than the main general plot, there really isn't much I've taken from the show but just in case please refrain from giving away anything :) Thank you xx**


	3. In the Wake of It All

Chapter 3: In The Wake of It All

In the wake of the blackout, people's attitudes and behaviour were changing rapidly. People were terrified to leave their front doors. Conversations revolved around the blackout, around the visions people had seen. The odd few had taken up resident outside public buildings, preaching about the end of the world and how all of this was a punishment for their sins.

"Oh, God," Bonnie snapped, looking exasperated as they passed the fifth person they'd encountered their day who'd started droning on about the blackout being a punishment for their sins. "Can't they leave us alone for like half a block?"

Unfortunately, Elena had spotted the next one lurking up ahead.

"Apparently not," she observed drily. "I guess disasters like this provoke people into panicking and doing things they'd otherwise scorn at."

"You're telling me," Bonnie said, rolling her eyes. "That guy we just passed isn't even religious. I know his sister. They're both devoted atheists and now he's just lurking in front of the library preaching about God creating the blackout." She shook her head. "People become crazy in the wake of something like this."

"Not crazy," Elena corrected gently. "Just scared."

The blackout had caused some serious damage to their school, resulting in it being closed down for an undetermined period of time. Whilst ordinarily they would've been celebrating, there was a certain sense of foreboding amongst the students. School, whether they liked it or not, was the centre of their day – centre of their lives – and without it, there was no sense of routine to keep them going. To cheer themselves up, Bonnie had suggested her, Elena and Caroline head over to the local park to soak up the sun whilst it was there. Caroline had bailed, for some unknown reason, which left the two of them.

"Hey, ladies," a familiar voice crooned. "Wonderful day for a walk."

The two girls simultaneously rolled their eyes and shuffled closer together. Damon bounced towards them, the smirk on his face angering them. Yes, he was an unfeeling, undead creature but surely in light of what had happened he could've shown just a miniscule amount of sensitivity? Evidently not. This was Damon they were talking about after all.

"What do you want, Damon?" Elena asked, pursing her lips together.

"Who says I want anything? Can I not just drop in and say hello?" Damon asked, looking mock hurt. "Why must you doubt my every intention, Elena?"

"I can think of a list of reasons as long as my arm as to why that is," she fired back. "Unless you have a good reason for showing up unannounced, I think we'll be off…"

"Relax, princess," Damon said, grabbing her arm gently. "I come in peace. I'm just making sure you're okay."

That particular statement, considering the source, made Elena do a double take. She felt like every time Damon said something now it was bound to change her opinion of him. The fact he was showing concern for her was both touching and concerning. She felt conflicted in what she actually wanted from him. She hated him when he was arrogant and prone to snapping and making stupid decisions, but when he was nice to her and showed her a rare side to him he never showed to just anybody, it made her feel on edge, like him being nice was going to push them both into making that vision come true.

"Why?" Bonnie demanded. "She's with me. Why wouldn't she be okay?"

"I wasn't asking you, Judgey," Damon said, rolling his eyes. "I suspect if I even _try_ to ask you how you are, I'll get an encyclopaedia of insults in response." He flashed a smirk. "Am I right, or am I right?"

Bonnie looked unimpressed. "Come on, Elena. Let's get out of here."

She proceeded to drag her friend away, whilst Elena couldn't help looking back at Damon, whose expression was unfathomable. She couldn't work out his motives for the things he did, the things he said. He was a mystery in himself, and his comment from before floated in her mind.

_"I like mysteries… You never know what's going to happen until the bitter end."_

When they were well out of earshot, Bonnie turned to Elena, scrutinising her tense expression carefully. She tugged her around the corner, making sure Damon was nowhere around before starting her interrogation.

"Okay… I know he's an arrogant jerk, but you could've cut the tension between the two of you with a _knife,_" she hissed, her eyes flashing with intrigue. "Is there something I'm missing? Did he sleep with you and never call you back?"

"Not funny, Bonnie," Elena said flatly.

"Then tell me what's up," Bonnie pleaded. "We're best friends, Elena. It's been two days since the blackout. Caroline rang me within the first hour ranting about what she'd seen. You, however, have intrigued me. Did you see Damon in your flash-forward? Is that it?"

"Will everyone stop calling them that?" Elena sighed. "We don't know for sure that's what they are."

"No," Bonnie conceded. "But everyone within the same time zone saw the exact same date and time. May 20th 2011. If that's not a flash-forward, I don't know what is."

Elena sighed and looked at the ground, speculating over whether or not it was wise to tell Bonnie. Bonnie would constantly bring it up whenever they ran into Damon and, truthfully, she didn't want to talk about it. Stefan had never asked her what she'd seen, thank God, although there was something in his eyes that confused her, even frightened her. She had this feeling she wasn't the only one keeping secrets but every time she tried to ask, she bit her lip and said nothing, fearing just asking would open up a can of worms.

"I saw me and Damon in my house," she confessed. "We were…together. Like _together_ together. The way I felt about him… Well, it felt so different from anything I've ever felt before." She threw up her hands in the air. "The only thing I can really compare to is the way I feel with Stefan now. The feeling of being completely in love."

Bonnie was silent, her eyes speculative.

"Wow." She saw the torment in her friend's eyes. "I'm guessing this has been torturing you, huh?"

Elena nodded.

"I can't tell Stefan. He has this worry about me and Damon anyway. It's not jealousy, but he worries about Damon being around me. This feud between them obviously goes a lot deeper than I'll ever know. I just wish I knew why Damon hates Stefan so much. It must go a lot deeper than the pair of them being in love with the same girl."

"If we're talking about the same Damon, it doesn't take much to get him in a rage," Bonnie pointed out. She frowned as she saw Elena's dejected look. "Relax, Elena. Just because we saw these things doesn't mean they're gonna come true. As long as you stick to your guns, make sure you and Stefan are good, then nothing has to happen."

Elena nodded. "True. And when I think about all he's done, like turning Vicki and torturing Caroline, it makes it easier to hate him. Until, you know, he goes and throws a curveball by asking me if I'm okay, and then I don't know what to think or how to react." She scoffed at how crazy she sounded. "I'm sorry. I'm casting a cloud over our girly day with my gloomy Damon talk. Sorry."

"Don't be." Bonnie smiled at her, looping an arm through hers. "We best friends have evolved to be able to cope with venting."

"What did you see?" Elena asked, eager to change the subject.

"It was weird," Bonnie said as they began to walk again. "I had the Grimoire in my hands. I was obviously psyching myself up to do some sort of spell, only the way I felt in my vision was bizarre. I felt a mixture of things. Grief, anger, to name but a few." She looked at Elena. "I think between now and May 20th – assuming these visions are accurate – I'm gonna lose someone I love."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'm not," Bonnie admitted. "But I was thinking about someone and feeling this surge of hatred, like someone had done something to me or someone I love. These visions are strange. They're not like dreams. They feel _real_. I felt anger and intense loathing surging through me. Maybe Damon did something to piss me off, I don't know…"

"But he was with me," Elena said, immediately regretting the way that had come out, as though it was an inevitable thing.

Bonnie smiled coyly. "Maybe I was pissed at him managing to charm his way into your heart."

"Well, like you said I'm sure these visions won't come true," Elena said, sounding only half confident.

She wasn't sure who she was trying to reassure here, Bonnie or herself.

"Maybe not," Bonnie said, sounding doubtful. "But I've learned to keep an open mind about this sort of thing. You're asking how I can be so sure about my visions. Well, how can the supernatural exist? How can vampires and witches exist? I learned not to bother asking that type of question anymore."

Elena nodded, understanding where Bonnie was coming from. Honestly, it wasn't the _how_ which was confusing her in regards to the flash-forwards. It was the _why._ Why had she and Damon, of all people, been thrown together? There was no chemistry – okay, that might have been a lie, although she certainly wasn't going to admit it – and certainly no reason how in such a short space of time she would forget her morals, her very principles, and fall in love with him.

The trouble was she knew a lot could change in a day, let alone six months. And she was afraid sticking her head in the sand and pretending there wasn't even the slightest of possibilities something between her and Damon could evolve during that time would do more bad than good.

* * *

><p>Stefan ordered his drink and sat at the bar, staring into his drink. He barely felt Damon flitter in, although he knew instinctively the company next to him was hardly welcome.<p>

"Hitting the heavy stuff? You?" Damon sounded delighted. "My goodness, I'd love to know what's driven you to drinking at…" he checked his watch, "twelve in the afternoon."

"Yeah, I'm sure you'd love to know what's making me miserable," Stefan said wryly. "When you've developed some sensitivity maybe I'll tell you."

"Don't talk back to me young man," Damon said, in a mocking authoritative tone. "I won't stand for it. And what do you mean when I've developed some sensitivity? I'll have you know I helped out a local agony aunt for a time by giving her advice for some crappy newspaper column or whatever."

"To get her to bed, no doubt."

"I'll have you know _ye of little faith_ it was strictly professional. I wanted to do a good deed and... okay, she was hot. Like majorly hot. I'd even go as far to say she was calendar girl hot."

"Your sensitivity level when it comes to women takes my breath away."

"Seriously, bro, what's up?" Damon asked, actually sounding serious. "I've only ever seen you look like that when you're brooding over Elena. Did you guys have a fight or something? Is she on the market again?"

His eyes danced with mischief.

"What did you see?" Stefan asked abruptly, changing the subject.

"I saw myself with a chick, duh," Damon said, rolling his eyes. "A very hot chick at that."

"Uh-huh…" Stefan immediately regretting asking that particular question. "So you actually saw something?"

"Yep." Damon popped the 'p' on the word. "Why?"

"Mine was strange that's all…" Stefan muttered, shaking his head as if trying to clear his head.

Damon scrutinised Stefan carefully, understanding there was something his brother wasn't telling, but he soon grew bored of seeing the frown lines on his brother's head and ordered a drink.

"You seen Elena yet?" he asked.

"Nope." Stefan's answer was short and blunt. "We're meeting up later though."

"And thus ends the small talk," Damon muttered.

He took a long swig of his drink, his eyes constantly flicking towards Stefan. Despite the fact he hated him, he had to admit there resided in him the tiniest bit of concern for Stefan. He looked broodier than usual… and given Stefan's personality contained as much cheerfulness as a graveyard at the best of times that was really saying something.

"Why are you lurking around here anyway?" Stefan asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Shouldn't you be out… terrorising the neighbourhood or something?"

"Ordinarily, yes, but given the current circumstances I'm pushing that back until the dust has settled."

Stefan blanched, almost spitting his drink out.

"You _can_ do sensitivity," he exclaimed, the merest hint of a smile on his face.

"No…" Damon looked faintly horrified. "I'm just saying I don't want to draw attention to myself by acting like a homicidal maniac. It would be suicidal, especially with the entire world on red alert."

"Ah. Knew you had an ulterior motive."

"Always do, Stefan." Damon grinned. "Now, I don't know about you but I've done enough bonding for today. I have an evil plot to carry out, remember?"

"Ah, yes. Your _bring Katherine back_ plan," Stefan said, rolling his eyes. "I'd love to know how you plan to do that without drawing attention to yourself."

"That's for me to know and for you to dot, dot, dot…" Damon said, rising off his seat and paying his tab, having enough time to give Stefan a parting smirk before he was off.

Stefan sighed, wishing he could figure out his brother for just one moment. He looked at his phone in the hopes Elena would've sent him a message, something to cheer him up, but no luck. She'd sent him a brief message in the morning, letting him know her plans for the day. He'd been fine this morning, until he'd switched on the news and heard about a disturbing new development on the flash-forward front.

Just remembering it made him order another drink, the only other benefit to drinking being it took the edge off of the cravings.

As a means of distraction, he retrieved Elena's number and sent her a quick text message, not really expecting one back. Damon's presence here had oddly been reassuring, reminding him that although the blackout had changed almost everything, some things – meaning Damon and his evil schemes – would never change. Although, he conceded, it wouldn't have been a bad thing to have seen Damon show a more compassionate side.

But maybe that was just expecting too much. Maybe it was illogical to think that just because the world could change in the space of the day, so could Damon. All these years he'd hoped Damon would change, allow himself to feel again, and he didn't know why he bothered to hope. His brother wouldn't change for anybody.

Well, technically, that wasn't true. There was someone, except he didn't like the idea that Elena could do in a few months what he couldn't do for over a century. Not because of pride, but because it would've been admitting she had a connection with Damon, and from there his thoughts took off in a certainly interesting direction, one which had him ordering another drink.

* * *

><p>Jenna found her way into the Grille, bored of being trapped in the house and watching news story after news story about what people had seen. Having spent most of the morning listening to two presenters locking horns over what the flash-forwards meant, she was eager for a distraction.<p>

And found one in a rugged handsome stranger at the bar.

"Ric," she greeted him. "We meet again."

Alaric turned his head and smiled at her, his eyes flashing with relief.

"Thank God," he said, with a wink. "I was bored of sitting here alone."

"What are you doing here at twelve o'clock?" she asked, perching herself next to him. "Don't you have a day job to be running to?"

"I was supposed to be starting my new job today, yes," Alaric admitted. "I'm the school's new history teacher. The school is closed, however, which means I'm left unemployed for a while." He raised his glass half-heartedly. "That's why I'm here. I have to pass the time sometime."

"Mind if I join you in some afternoon drinking?" Jenna asked, eager for some company. "God knows I could use some company. I'm sick to death of hearing about these flash-forwards. I just need a bit of normality."

He appraised her carefully, nodding his head, finding her intriguing. Isobel was still on his mind – always was – but until he got the closure he needed, it was nice just to have a break from her. It was nice just to be talking to women again without feeling emotionally crippled. She had a nice smile too, he noticed, one not tainted with falsity, unlike his own.

"From my short time here, I've learned you care for your sister's children," he said, looking to her for confirmation. "Jeremy and Elena? They're in my class. Separate ones, obviously…"

"Yep, that would be them," she said, unable to stop herself from smiling. "I gather you managed to amass that information from Carole Lockwood?"

"How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," Jenna informed him with a wink. "She's the town gossiper. Probably started reeling off students in your class and their families, right?"

"Right…" Alaric replied, dazed. "Clearly I have a lot to learn if I'm going to be living in Mystic Falls."

Jenna grinned at him. "That you do. In Mystic Falls, everyone knows everyone else's business. I should know having lived here once. I ran away though. Didn't want anyone to know _my_ baggage."

"Bad relationship?" Alaric guessed.

"Yep." Jenna nodded. "And clearly I don't learn my lesson. Still pining over a guy who is nothing more than a rat." She stirred her drink, avoiding Alaric's eyes for the moment. " No, he was worse than that…a scumbag. Logan Scumfell." She grinned apologetically. "I tend to rant when I'm drunk."

"But you've not even…"

"You really do have a lot to learn," Jenna repeated, her grin turning cheeky. Then, in a hushed whisper, she added, "I had a sneaky drink before I came out. Saves money. I picked that tip up on campus."

Alaric chuckled. "I think I'm gonna like you," he declared. "I do the same thing."

Jenna laughed.

"Here's to sneaky taboo drinks," she proposed, holding up her glass.

"And to failed relationships," Alaric echoed, raising his as well.

They clunked glasses and downed the liquid, unable to take their eyes off each other, so intrigued were they by the other but for separate reasons. Jenna was fascinated partly because of what she'd seen, but mostly because she sensed there was an interesting story waiting to be discovered through this man. Alaric was fascinated because he somehow knew she was going to be important to him. It was just a feeling, one he ideally shouldn't be feeling given the reason he was here was because of his wife Isobel.

_Alaric was putting away his hunting tools when his phone rang, making him jump, mostly because his guard was now completely and utterly dropped. Wearied from the night's activities, he answered it, wondering what to expect. _

_"Mr Saltzman?"_

_"Yeah, that's me," he said, his voice wary. "Who is this? How did you get my number?"_

_"Miss Somers requested we call you. She said urgent business took you away but that she wanted you to know the baby is happy and healthy."_

_He smiled a wild kind of smile, heaving a sigh of relief as he leaned against his car, a shaky hand running through his hair._

_"That's great news," he said, beaming. "Is the baby a boy or a…?"_

_"It's a little girl."_

_And the tears rushed to his eyes, but before he could respond something rushed at him and that's when everything went dark and the vision ended._

He had no idea what Jenna's last name was. But somehow he just knew she was the woman referred to in his vision. Perhaps the other thing to focus on was the fact something attacked him. He'd been hunting, which confirmed his suspicions that there were vampires in Mystic Falls. If he'd been putting his tools away, he'd been hunting.

His smile promptly faded. He felt like it was here that he would get his answers as to what happened to Isobel. Maybe he'd been hunting the monster which had killed her. If so, that would be the closure he needed. It wasn't revenge, simply justice.

"Are you okay?" Jenna asked, noticing his frown.

"What?" He shook himself to reality. "Yeah… Just wondering what to do with myself until the school is reopened."

"Well…" Jenna wondered if it was wise what she was about to say. "You can start by coming to dinner tomorrow night at my house. You can get to know Jeremy and Elena, see what wonderful kids they are. I'll cook…" She winced. "No guarantees that it'll all turn out okay. I'm a terrible cook."

Alaric smiled, instantly charmed by her.

"Burned dinners are the best kind," he informed her. "It takes a special type of chef to make a burned dinner."

"A terrible one?"

"Yeah…" He smiled. "Still, I'd love to take you up on that."

"Good."

They locked eyes, Jenna still smiling to the point where her jaw was starting to ache. She loosened her smile and ordered another drink, her eyes on Alaric's all the time. Logan soon drifted out of her mind to the point where she couldn't even remember what the scumbag looked like.

And as charmed as she was by Alaric, she still couldn't see how six months could make her into someone so irrational that she'd want to get herself pregnant without at least waiting until they were serious, as in _engaged_ or _married_ serious.

But the fact was it seemed fate wanted her to have a baby. And the more she thought about the vision, the more it made her smile which, in turn, made her realize that she really wanted that baby. Not just any baby but that specific one. She remembered swearing to Miranda that she'd never have children. Not because she didn't want them but she had such a low threshold for pain that she couldn't imagine putting herself through labour. Plus there was the fact she wasn't sure she could even _handle_ children. She could barely handle her niece and nephew, and they were nearing adulthood, able to function on their own.

Pushing all that aside, she was fascinated by Alaric, by the glint of sadness in his eyes which presumably he hoped she wouldn't notice. She could see it though. And she sensed maybe she wasn't the only one unlucky in love. Without even planning it, she reached across the countertop and placed her hands on top of his.

He looked at her, surprise written all across his face, but didn't pull away. Instead, he gave her a soft, sad smile, inadvertently communicating to her there were troubles in his life he wasn't ready to pull himself out of just yet, and she released his hands, biting her lip, silently cursing herself for being too forward.

"I'll see you at my house tomorrow at seven then?" she asked, finishing her drink before hopping off the barstool. "Good…" She gave him an awkward smile. "See you then."

"Jenna…" He bit his lip, cursing himself for watching her leave and not daring to go after her.

It wasn't that he didn't want his new chapter of life to not have Jenna in it, somehow. He just wasn't ready to close the books on Isobel until he had closure of some sort.

* * *

><p>After what had felt like a long day just walking around Mystic Falls, Elena approached her car, relieved no false do-gooders seemed to be lurking around. Bonnie had ended up being picked up by her dad, leaving Elena to take her car. It was approaching dusk now, a time of day she'd always loved. Memories of sitting on the edge of the dock of her parents' Lake House at dusk with her toes dipped in the water flooded her mind. Despite the fact there was a lot of chaos going on in her world, she couldn't help but miss them still.<p>

She looked at her phone and saw she'd received a message from Stefan. Unable to resist smiling, she opened up the message.

_I love you. Have a great day xx_

It was short, sweet and to the point, which was Stefan all over really. Her smile widened. She sent him an equally short but meaningful text back, mostly thanking him for sending her such a sweet message, and then proceeded to pile into her car. She leaned back for a moment and inhaled a few times just to relax herself. She half expected Damon to pop up out of nowhere and do something which would once again change her opinion of him.

Sighing loudly, she turned the ignition and reversed out of the car park. She sent Jenna a quick text letting her know she was on her way home, before she swerved around and started the short drive home. She liked driving at this time of day; everything seemed to possess a pinkish tinge to it, making everywhere look like it had been painted sunset colour.

The main road she always drove on was closed for repair, so Elena had to take the longer way home. It involved going near Wickery Bridge, which made her extremely nervous. Bonnie had driven near there once not long after the accident and she'd had a panic attack just remembering it all. The memories still stung, and the healing process was ongoing. Still, thoughts of Stefan gave her courage and she even felt brave enough to accelerate a little.

Once she'd passed Wickery Bridge, she eyed it with a sense of smug satisfaction, turning her eyes around just in time to see someone was standing there in the middle of the road. Letting out a gasp, Elena swerved to avoid him but she couldn't stop the vehicle in time. Her car hit something, causing her head to snap back, and then it flipped over and over, until finally it came to a halt upside down.

Elena let out a series of sharp coughs, with frightened sobs mingled into the mix. She let out a series of strangled cries but the road she was on was deserted. There was only one lone car on the road and that was hers. Her eyes fell onto the body that lay in the middle of the road and she felt concern for herself fall away. Had she killed someone? What damage had been done by just a moment's distraction?

When the person stirred into life, it concerned her more than it relieved her. The person literally snapped themselves back into place, and no human being could accomplish that, before walking towards her. She knew it had to be a vampire. Who else could it have been? She let out another strangled cry and tried to claw her way out. Her seatbelt was jammed, and she could feel blood seeping from somewhere.

In lieu of any other options, Elena, once she'd found her voice, let out a panicked scream which didn't seem to deter her attacker. He got closer and closer until she could almost see his face.

And then, just like that, he vanished. In the madness, she'd covered her face, as if that would protect her somehow, and once she'd heard the gust of wind which had signalled his disappearance she felt it was safe to look. Then something reappeared in front of her and she let out a sharp scream. Until her eyes focused and she saw it was actually Damon. She never thought the day would come when she would've been relieved and overjoyed to see him.

"How you doing there?" he asked, for once no trace of a smirk on his face.

She couldn't even speak, yet she managed to let out a few jumbled sentences explaining the situation. He didn't even flinch. He just told her to put her hands on the ceiling of her car and then he managed to get her out. She felt like a quivering mass of jelly as she stumbled into his arms.

"Look at me," he instructed, checking her carefully for any signs of damage. "Any broken bones? Does it hurt anywhere?"

She tried to nod and shake where appropriate but her entire insides felt like a mess. Damon looked at her pointedly but she couldn't say or do anything. Her lips began wobbling and tears burst their way out of her eyes. An entire world had blacked out and so a car crash should've been nothing, yet it felt like the straw which had broken the camel's back. She felt angry and confused that Stefan wasn't the one rescuing her but, really, that should've been the last thing on her mind. She should just have been grateful Damon was at the right place at the right time.

But she thought about her flash-forward, and wondered whether this moment right here was the trigger which led up to it. Damon was looking at her with such concern and she didn't deserve it. She'd just been so bitter towards him, hating him for everything he'd done rather than trying to like him for everything he could've been. _This is dangerous thinking,_ she thought to herself as Damon's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her up. _This has to stop right now before things get any deeper…_

And that was her last conscious thought before she blacked out.

* * *

><p><strong>An: First things first, thank you to all the reviewers and favers. You guys are awesome. From here on in, the story roughly follows the show with a few changes, naturally. For one thing, a few events are pushed forward, and ****next chapter sees the introduction of Anna. I liked her character…ish. I never really bought into hers and Jeremy's relationship considering she was initially using him. I'm not really happy with this chapter but oh well. Stefan is hiding something. We won't find out for a while but clues are given next chapter so stick around! **


	4. Starting Again

Chapter 4: Starting Again

* * *

><p>He continued to glance in her direction, mostly to check she was still alive. There was something tragic about his desire to keep this human alive. He constantly told himself it was because she looked like Katherine; that every ounce of kindness shown towards her was because of Katherine; that hurting her would've been like hurting Katherine. But the more time he spent with her, the harder it was to convince himself that was true.<p>

She stirred in her sleep, her hand snaking past her ear to prop up her head and Damon couldn't help but smile. He turned his attention to the road, determined to keep his attention on the mission ahead. Soon he would have Katherine back, and Mystic Falls would crumble. Any and every feeling he'd felt towards Elena would be a distant memory, something he could easily sweep under the carpet as he began his new life with Katherine somewhere romantic, like Italy or even Paris.

As he fantasised, he missed Elena stirring again, the motion causing her to wake. She pushed herself up, instantly confused by her surroundings.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Damon instantly chirped, grinning.

"What –? "Elena couldn't decide what question she wanted answering first. "Where are we?"

"Georgia."

She rolled her eyes.

"Be serious, Damon. Where are we?"

"Georgia," he insisted.

Elena looked out the window, at the small fields and farms whizzing past her window, and narrowed her eyes, starting to realize Damon wasn't joking. She couldn't recognize any of the roads, any of the buildings, and so had to reluctantly deduce on this occasion Damon was telling the truth.

"Damon, we can't be in Georgia!" she exclaimed, sitting up in alarm, her eyes flashing with surprise. "People are gonna be wondering where I am."

"Relax, Elena. I took care of everything. I sent Stefan a message on your behalf, I sent Jenna a message…" Damon winked at her. "No one will be worrying over you."

She stared at him, a trickle of fear emerging on her face. What was he hoping to achieve by kidnapping her?

"What's in Georgia? And why'd you bring me along?" she asked desperately.

"An old friend," he answered airily. "And I brought you along because you were unconscious and all helpless and I thought you could do with a change of scenery." He turned to look at her, his eyes twinkling. "Don't tell me you can't do with some time off from everything."

"This is kidnapping," she growled, unimpressed by his reasoning.

"That's a little melodramatic, don't ya think?" Damon replied, rolling his eyes. "It's not kidnapping. It's just borrowing your company with the full intention of giving you back."

Despite herself, a reluctant snort of laughter escaped Elena. She was vaguely amused by his comment and it eased the tension in the car….somewhat. Pushing her hair out of her face, she stared out of the window, before another question surfaced in her mind.

"What are you up to?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Visiting a friend, like I told you."

"You don't have friends, Damon," she pointed out, somewhat sourly. "You missed out the lesson on caring and sharing in school."

"Ouch. Hit me where it hurts why don't you?" he said mockingly, one hand covering his heart.

"See, that attitude right there is why you don't have friends. Or not many at least."

"Damn it, you know you're right. I really should work on my social skills. Thank you, Elena, for showing me the light. I shall change my ways from now on!"

"Ass," Elena muttered darkly.

Damon grinned, enjoying the banter. With Stefan, you could never coax more than a few words out of him at a time, whereas Elena seemed to fight back more. He gave her a sly glance, noticing her lips were pressed into a firm, hard line, and resisted the urge to laugh sensing it would only piss her off, and whilst normally that would've been something he'd have enjoyed doing, he knew he had to get her on his side if he wanted to accomplish the endgame he had in mind.

"Can we pull over please?" she asked eventually.

"Why?" he asked, elongating the y at the end of the word.

"Pull over, Damon," she commanded. "Now!"

"Ugh," he groaned. "You were so much more fun when you were asleep."

But he pulled the car over to the side and braked, unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out the car, subconsciously mirroring Elena's actions. Looking at her with mild concern, he raced over to her side to help her as she seemed to curve downwards, and he could instantly tell by her expression the gesture had taken her by complete surprise.

"I'm fine," she assured him.

He gave her another once over to be absolutely sure, then backed off, watching her as she groaned into life. His eyes couldn't help trailing up and down her body appreciatively, and he began to realize that although she looked like Katherine down to the last detail, her body was still completely foreign. And then his thoughts began to wander into dangerous territory and he fought to keep himself in the moment.

"Damon, any time spent alone between us is dangerous," Elena began, looking worried. "You're still hung up on Katherine, and I…."

"What do you mean?" he asked quickly. "I'm not still hung up on Katherine." He frowned. "Why would you ask that?"

"Remember that night you first came over, and I figured out you and Stefan had both dated her?" Elena asked, waiting for him to nod before proceeding. "Well, when I said I was sorry that you'd lost her, the look on your face…" She inhaled deeply. "Well, it's the look I get on my face whenever someone brings up my parents. It's that look where you feel that person's loss all over again, and it still hurts because you loved them that much."

Damon stared at her, wondering how she was able to get inside his head like that and say the words he wished he could say. Swallowing loudly, he searched for some form of witty comeback to lighten the mood. Unable to, he was stuck between chewing the inside of his mouth, looking like a gormless idiot, and staring at his feet, neither of which he wanted to do.

Elena looked at him, before turning away, trying to ignore brief flash of vulnerability on his face, the brief flash of humanity he worked to conceal. She reminded herself of his past misdeeds, and yet for once that didn't particularly work to conceal the surge of sympathy she felt for him in this moment.

"Shall we go?" Damon suddenly announced, his voice chipper than normal.

"Damon…"

"Elena…" he mocked, his look of vulnerability instantly gone.

She shook her head, unable to find the energy to reprove him.

"Why is it so important we need to go to Georgia?" she demanded. "With all that's going on, don't you think there are more important issues to be dealing with?"

"Like….?" Damon prompted, doing the eye thing she found rather distracting, as well as irritating.

"Like…" She lost her train of thought. "Oh, it doesn't matter!"

"Can't think of anything, can you?" he teased. "That's because you need to loosen up a little, Elena. I wouldn't put you in a situation where you were in danger. This is just two friends braving the world together. Also, consider this your chance to get to know me a little bit."

"I think I know you well enough," Elena pointed out, folding her arms, a look of deliberation unfolding across her face. "Look, am I going to be safe with you?"

"Absolutely," he assured her.

"And you won't do that…mind control thing?"

"I won't."

"Can I trust you?"

"Get in the car," he said, deliberately evading the question.

Elena sighed heavily, not liking the idea of being alone with Damon for one second but decided to go along with it. Looking at him once more, not sure she was really looking for (another flash of humanity, perhaps?) she made her way over to the door and got back inside, wondering what on earth she'd let herself in for.

* * *

><p>Caroline was in the Grill, sighing in frustration at the lack of contact she seemed to be getting on the part of her friends, when she bumped into Tyler unexpectedly. She sidestepped to move past him but he mirrored her action. She sidestepped the other way and the same happened. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she put her hands on her hips and glared at him.<p>

"Look, Tyler, I realize this conversation had to happen sometime but I'd rather it not be in the middle of a public place!"

He tilted his head to one side, his gaze speculative.

"What are you on about, Caroline?" he enquired, the merest hint of a smirk to his face.

She sighed.

"Look, we hugged. Nothing more," she informed him bossily. "Obviously in the space of six months we're gonna get closer, but don't think this excuses you from spiking my drink at Georgina Ewell's party!"

"There's no proof it was me," Tyler protested, putting his hands up in defence.

"Matt grassed on you the next day, so don't pretend you're innocent," Caroline spat, looking cross. "I had a hangover that lasted three days, Tyler. _Three days!_ And my mom grounded me for a month and I, like, missed three sales because of your stupid little stunt."

"That was like three years ago, Car. Get over it," he teased, a boyish grin lighting up his face.

"Ugh, why are there no mature lads out there?" she bemoaned. "You are all the freakin' same, just waiting to take advantage of us and then – and then abuse our trust and – and – and…"

She had no idea she was crying until she caught sight of Tyler's bewildered expression. She touched her cheeks and felt the treacherous tears. Damon's treatment of her had left a permanent scar – as well as several slowly fading bite marks and bruises – and she'd never felt this vulnerable and insecure in her life.

"Caroline, are you alright?" he asked her uncertainly.

"I'm fine," she sniffed, her usual haughty manner returning. "Look, have you seen Bonnie or Elena anywhere? They're not replying to any of my messages!"

"No I haven't," Tyler admitted truthfully. "Look, do you wanna hang out instead? Matt's bailed on me and all the guys from the squad are out of town." He lifted up his hands in surrender. "I promise I'll behave."

"Why would you want to hang out with me?" Caroline asked suspiciously. "You've made no attempt at hiding the fact you loathe me."

"Things change."

"You mean because the flash-forwards seem to suggest us hooking up, it's a sign you should start being nicer to me?" Caroline guessed, looking disgusted. "Forget it, Tyler." She shoved past him. "When you get a personality change, come talk to me. "

"Caroline!"

Despite himself, he found himself chasing after her. Whether it was the pull of the flash-forwards, or the fact he hated girls storming off angrily when he had no idea what it was he was supposed to have said or done, he found himself actually chasing after Caroline Forbes. And when she stopped suddenly, her expression angry, he skidded into her, muttering something incoherent before backing away.

"What?" she snapped.

"I'm sorry," he snapped back, suddenly defensive. "For whatever it is I said that's got you mad at me."

"Oh, don't worry, Ty," she said dismissively. "You can join the queue of all the other guys who've treated me like crap. There's a long line of 'em."

And she walked away, leaving him looking utterly bewildered by her behaviour.

* * *

><p>Damon pulled up outside a grubby looking bar seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Elena stared at it with confusion, managing to surmise that whoever it was Damon had come to see had to be in the bar itself. She got out of the car, her wounds still feeling sore, and looked over at Damon who was already out.<p>

"Damon, I hate to burst your bubble, but they're not going to let me in," she said pointedly. "I'm underage."

"Live a little, Elena," Damon told her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "And don't worry…if any troubles arise, I have certain powers of…persuasion to get us through 'em."

"Why, because that's your answer to everything?" she demanded.

He looked amused by her irritation rather than frustrated.

"Relax," he commanded, walking towards her. "Let's take a time out. The world's not going anywhere. Your problems will all still be there when you get home. Let's just go in, have a beer, and chin up. Life's not that bad."

"Right," she replied doubtfully, watching him walk inside before – reluctantly – following him. "Let's pretend the world hasn't blacked out and caused millions of people to die."

Inside the bar, there really wasn't much to tell about the place. It was a grubby looking place, with a few grubby looking people along with it. She didn't know why Damon had dragged her here until it all became clear. The bartender, a young, black woman with wild, curly hair was smiling at Damon as he sauntered in, all aloof and casual, and with one athletic leap, she was on the other side of the bar.

"Well, well," she purred, looking him up and down. "If it ain't Damon Salvatore, the breaker of many a girl's heart."

And, impulsively, she grabbed his face and kissed him. Elena turned away, disgusted by the display. It went on for about thirty seconds before she finally coughed to announce her presence.

"Ah, Bree, this is Elena. Elena, Bree," Damon lazily introduced, flashing Elena his normal smirk.

"How did he rope you in into coming to see humble old me?" Bree asked, flashing a toothy grin in Elena's direction.

"Actually, I…." Elena began.

"Honey, if you're not roped, you're whipped," Bree said, grinning. "Either way, just enjoy the ride."

Elena looked uncertainly in Damon's direction, and boy did he seem to enjoy the attention. Scoffing quietly, she headed towards the bar and sat down, Damon coming to sit by her.

"What do you think of her?" he asked, his lips inches away from her ear.

"She seems….nice," Elena replied honestly. "A bit full on, maybe."

"We go way back," Damon bragged. "Oh, and she's a witch by the way."

Elena looked at Bree, who'd heard them and gave a quick little nod for confirmation.

"S'true," she said. "And this boy…" she poked Damon playfully, "done gone and broke my heart many a year ago."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Elena asked flatly, giving Damon a pointed look.

"I was young," Damon protested half-heartedly.

"Young in nature maybe," Bree teased, running a finger under his chin. "But you've been the same age for as long as I can remember, so don't feed me that crap boy."

Her fingers reached his cheek and she gave him a quick gentle slap on the cheek before her face turned serious.

"But seriously, Damon, why have you come to see me?"

"Give me a beer and I'll tell you all about it," he responded cheekily.

"And one for me too," Elena piped up, realizing if she was going to be around Damon she was going to need some alcohol first.

In response to Damon's quizzical look, she made the time out sign.

"Time out, remember?" she reminded him.

As Bree fetched them two beers, she looked at Damon, who was looking at her, and gave him a small smile, surprised when he returned it. This was so dangerous, she realized, but, really, what was one night in the grand scheme of things? What could possibly happen in one night?

"I knew you'd come round to my way of thinking," he taunted, smirking.

"Shut up," she mumbled, taking a ridiculously large swig of her drink.

Damon eyed her with almost malicious delight, and looked as though he was about to say something, but deciding it was wiser to shut up and keep drinking, he kept his mouth shut and rested the bottle against his lips, his eyes drifting over to Elena all the time, sometimes without him even realizing they were on her.

* * *

><p>Stefan was lurking around the bar of the Grill when his eyes spotted Jeremy shuffling in, his eyes darting around wildly as if he was searching for someone. He didn't know whether to avoid him or actually talk to him, because, honestly, he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. Not since he'd overheard several worried conversations about the flash-forwards. He drained the last of his drink, before deciding he'd had enough and going home the best option he had going for him at the moment.<p>

Elena was staying over Bonnie's house, and they needed some time together, so that had left him somewhat in the lurch. Being with Elena would've sufficed as a distraction, not because he considered her a distraction but because she had this wonderful way of easing any pain he might've felt. He missed her, even when he knew she was only on the other side of Mystic Falls.

"Stefan?"

Damn it. He'd been caught.

"Hey, Jeremy," he said, sounding sheepish as though he'd been caught in the middle of a crime rather than a casual midday drink.

"You okay?" Jeremy enquired, looking at him carefully.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"I've not seen you at the house for a while," Jeremy replied. "You and Elena are normally there all the time." He frowned. "Are you two okay?"

"We're fine," Stefan assured him, the edges of his voice giving away that he'd had more than just the one drink. "Honestly…"

Jeremy arched his eyebrows, looking less than convinced. With a quiet sigh, he sat next to Stefan and studied him carefully, wondering what had happened for Stefan to look so haggard and worn, like he was wrestling with a great big secret or something. It wasn't his business to ask after him, but seeing how Elena was AWOL for the day, he decided to step in.

"What's with you?" he asked again. "You look terrible, Stefan. Was it something you saw?"

"No." Stefan's reply was short and irritable. "It's what I didn't see."

"You and Elena weren't together or something?"

"No, Jeremy. I saw nothing, okay?" Stefan snapped, letting his head drop into his hands. "The whole world saw something and I didn't."

"You could've been asleep," Jeremy ventured bravely.

"While the rest of Mystic Falls was awake?" Stefan shook his head. "No, Jeremy. I considered that possibility but it seems unlikely. In six months from now, I'm going to be dead. It's not even that I'm concerned with."

"Really? So you're necking back whiskey like it's going out of fashion because you're okay about that?"

"Elena…." Stefan whispered brokenly, looking down at her hands. "She's lost enough people, Jeremy. I can't cause her to feel that kind of pain again, even if it isn't my fault."

"Going on a self-destructive bender isn't exactly going to please her either, you know," Jeremy commented, noticing the array of empty glasses around Stefan. "Have you told her about it? Maybe telling her about it could, I dunno, change it?"

"Nope." Stefan peered into an empty glass, using it like a kaleidoscope. "She doesn't need to know either. She'll just worry and worry and…." He searched for the right word. "Worry."

"Right." Jeremy raised an eyebrow. "I think you need to go home, Stefan, get some sleep and then talk to Elena the moment you can walk in a straight line. She needs to hear about this from you."

"Okay," Stefan mumbled, rising to his feet, the motion causing a nearby glass to shatter inches away from his feet. "Oops…"

"I can drive you home," Jeremy volunteered, fetching his keys.

"I'll walk…" Stefan countered, swaying on the spot.

"Like hell you are." Jeremy gripped Stefan's arm and steered him towards the door. "Fear does strange things to people, Stefan, like, I dunno, causing them to crash and burn. I refuse to let that happen to you." He glanced around. "This really should be Elena's job though. Where is she anyway? I've not seen her all day."

"She's at Bonnie's," Stefan informed him.

"That's funny…." Jeremy cocked a worried eyebrow. "I've just seen Bonnie walking in the street. Elena was nowhere near her. And I know she's not at home 'cause I've just come from there."

That seemed to sober Stefan up right away.

"Where is she then?" he asked, squinting up at Jeremy.

* * *

><p>It was rapidly growing dark. By now, Elena was on her third round of shots, and a small crowd had gathered to either watch or participate, and she seemed to be outlasting all of them thus far.<p>

"Three…two…one," she called, and the participants of the shot drinking contest lifted their shot glasses and necked down the shots.

Rather than feeling tipsy, Elena felt rejuvenated by the shots and couldn't help but smirk as she watched Damon wipe his mouth.

"Aw, do you need a bib?" she taunted playfully.

"I'm sorry I can't unhinge my jaw like a snake to consume alcohol," he countered, his tone equally as playful, his gaze lingering a little too long on her.

"Yeah, whatever…." she responded dismissively, a little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Another round, Bree?" she asked pointedly, making a drum roll motion on the counter.

"Honey," one of the women crowded around, clearly wasted, called, "you should be on the floor!"

"Oh no, my tolerance level is right up here!"

She leaped in the air to demonstrate, vaguely aware Damon's eyes were on hers. As she came back down, she joined in the fourth round of shots and gave a little dance on the spot.

"You enjoying yourself?" Damon enquired, snickering at the difference between Elena pre-alcohol, and Elena post-alcohol.

"Hell, yes!" Elena crowed, punching the air.

He smirked, deciding that, despite the fact Bree hadn't been able to give him any useful tips on getting Katherine out of the tomb, the day hadn't been a total bust after all. And he considered loosening Elena up as quite an achievement, so that was something to remember.

As he watched Elena being escorted off towards the pool table by some of the crowd, he ordered another beer and mused over his options now that using the comet's power to break open the tomb had been all but swept under the rug.

"You really care for her, huh?" Bree's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"What?" He lazily raised his head. "What are you on about?"

"If I'm honest, when I first saw her, I believed you had her wrapped around your little finger, but now I'm thinkin' it's the other way round," Bree teased, lowering her head to Damon's height.

"She's alright, I guess," Damon said with a shrug, smiling as he heard her triumphant yell in the background.

"Uh-huh." Bree didn't look convinced. "That why you wearing a grin like schoolboy with a crush?" She leaned forward, until her face was only inches away from his. "Honey, you're either roped or you're whipped, and, I'd never thought I'd say this, but you, Damon Salvatore, are whipped."

"Rubbish," he scoffed. "I am not whipped."

She handed him his beer and smiled, refusing to say any more on the subject. Hoisting himself off his seat, Damon made an excuse and went to the lavatory, determined to avoid any further questioning from Bree.

Why would she think he had feelings for Elena when he was still relentlessly pursuing Katherine? Okay, sure there were times he allowed himself to linger in the memory of that vision – which, ironically enough, wasn't a memory in itself – and sometimes the sheer love he'd felt for that split moment still had crossed his mind. There was no mention of Stefan in the vision, and it'd just been the two of them, lying close together, the sound of her heartbeat flooding his ears.

He shook his head, feeling disgusted with himself. How had he let a two minute _vision _suddenly take over him like this? Where was his sense of loyalty to Katherine?

As he walked into the bar and slid into his seat, he found it easier to forget about the impact Elena was having on him.

"Where's your girl?" Bree suddenly asked, craning her neck to stare around the room.

He followed her gaze.

"Huh," he began thoughtfully. "She was right over there…"

Puzzled, he walked towards the door, wondering if she'd stepped out for some fresh air. Then he saw her phone on the floor and he began to worry. Listening out for any odd sounds, he could smell her lingering perfume in the air and followed it, briefly lamenting how a minute's logic had completely disintegrated just because Elena had done a disappearing act.

He walked around the corner, every sense on edge.

"Damon, no!"

The moment he saw her he knew there was something distinctly wrong about the situation. Before he could react, a dark haired man barrelled out of the shadows, all guns a blazing, a look of murder in his eyes. Damon had seen that look many times – it was the look of someone who was pissed off and out for revenge. Hell, he'd donned that look many times himself. Before he could so much as protest, he found the man had raced over and was proceeding to beat him. He groaned as each blow cut into him, and yet somehow above the pain he could hear Elena begging for the man to stop. And that, he found, was the very thing stopping him from reacting; because, honestly, her attempts at saving him had completely stunned him.

The next few minutes went by really slow. He could hear the tense conversation between Elena and his attacker, and picked up on the key word – Lexie – and yet all he could focus on was the fact that she was trying to save him. In reality, he could've done something – anything – instead of taking this beating like a feeble excuse of a man.

Something Elena then said seemed to register with the man because all of a sudden he was backing off, claiming such generosity was for Lexie not for her. He lay on his back, coughing loudly, momentarily dazed. And then he felt her arms around him, guiding him to his feet.

"I'm okay," he coughed, giving her a grateful look. "I heal quickly."

He demonstrated by holding out his arm, the bruises fading quickly right in front of her.

"Wow," she breathed, examining the faded marks. "I knew you healed quickly but seeing it…"

"Pretty cool, right?" he grinned, wincing as he staggered forwards as he tried to regain his balance.

"Relax," Elena commanded, still in control even though her eyes weren't quite focused. "Let's go back to the car."

And with an arm looped around his shoulder – rather unnecessary, but, hey, he wasn't going to complain – they shuffled off back to the car, both sets of thoughts clouded over by confusion, and the vague sense that maybe, just maybe, they'd misjudged their companion.

And still they hoped, like their own futures that that sense of alterable destiny – the ability to craft their own futures, make their own choices – still remained intact.

Even if, after tonight, their hearts and minds weren't.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Okay, not happy with this chapter but after the first few chapters this has become quite difficult to write lol. I'm looking forward to writing Stefan however in the next few chapters because he is not going to cope well with the thought of dying, despite the fact he has technically died already. So prepare for some fairly OOC Stefan, although I'll try and keep him in character as best I can. But I can't stress this enough despite the story's plot, do not expect everything will pan out the way people see it. Some things may change, and some things may not. I decided to rewrite the Georgia episode because though it remains my favourite Delena heavy** **episode, I just couldn't be bothered to revisit it for a transcript lol. So I'm lazy like that, sue me! :P Thanks for all the reviews/faves/alerts. They really make my day so keep 'em up!**


	5. You Give and You Take

Chapter 5: You Give and You Take

* * *

><p>In the growing darkness, everything felt okay. It felt soothing, knowing his troubles, knowing the spark of despair inside his eyes couldn't be seen.<p>

Stefan wasn't one for watching houses, he really wasn't; it felt like stalking and he wasn't that kind of guy. He knew avoiding Elena was probably not helping things, but he didn't know what he was really avoiding – having to hear her lie, or having to tell his. After overhearing several people discussing, with quite a breath-taking amount of solemnity, the meaning of an absence of a flash-forward, he'd taken to drinking to calm his nerves. It was the only odd drink, but it was already affecting his vampire senses.

Elena hadn't really given him much of an explanation as to where she'd been, and he was sure it was just alcohol which was giving him a paranoid feeling she was hiding something from him. All she'd said was that she'd fallen asleep at Caroline's and had ended up there. And he, being the devoted idiot that he was, had believed her. Really, if he was being brutally honest, he'd rather have bought that and allowed himself to wallow in his own fear and misery than try and work out what she was not saying, because in the long run he'd rather not push her away with pointless accusations that, for all he knew, were just the fabrications of his paranoid mind.

He watched her now, noticing her silhouette against the curtains of her bedroom which she'd drawn for the night, a soft smile touching his face.

Damon's presence here was adding extra pressure he really could've done without. Without knowing how exactly Damon was going to bust Katherine out, Stefan was on alert for most of the day, trying to hold back the inevitable flood that would be released should Katherine somehow – God forbid – end up back in Mystic Falls again; this time, very much alive and kicking, probably seething with vengeance. How she'd take to Elena was one of those mysteries he'd rather not ever see solved. It was better Katherine didn't know about her doppelganger.

He watched Elena's house for most of the night, wondering who this was really for. He couldn't well say it was to guard Elena from the horrors that lay in the dark, because she already knew about them, and it seemed there lay much darker dangers out there than just vampires. Most people were calling these blackouts an act of God, but Stefan had his doubts. Despite the sheer impossibility of such a thing actually happening, he knew this had to be caused by man. Science was moving at such a rapid pace that the possibility of a global blackout no longer seemed such an impossible event to create.

It struck him halfway through his thought that the danger in Mystic Falls had suddenly shifted. Though Damon was a constant threat in his mind, he was no longer the sole threat. There was the worry that something else would happen, something beyond supernatural, because you could hardly class these blackouts as supernatural, could you? No, it wasn't exactly natural, but there was probably some form of rational cause, maybe an experiment gone wrong?

Stefan leaned his head against his hands, realizing his thoughts just seemed to be circling back on each other. His main worries seem to be, in this order: the consequences following the blackout, Damon and his antics, and dying, although the last worry wasn't really for himself, but for Elena.

He really had to relax.

Stefan reached for the flask he seemed to carry with him, and downed the rest of the liquor he'd stored inside it. Really, his body craved stronger stuff – and he wasn't talking about vodka, or Jack Daniels. It seemed in times of great stress, running along the same sort of principle that a stressed person used food as a stress outlet, his body seemed to crave blood now more than ever before.

Luckily, he'd used his decades on this earth wisely, building up a sort of self-defence against the lure of human blood. Damon constantly seemed to chime that detaching himself from human blood altogether wasn't wise at all, but he learned to filter out the useful suggestions Damon (rarely) gave from the utterly pointless ones, and the ones which weren't so much suggestions as they were vaguely dressed up insults.

"Thought I'd find you here," an amused voice said, making him flinch with alarm even though he should've heard him coming.

Stefan glared at his brother, who was leaning casually against the tree with his arms folded, as if this was gesture was perfectly normal rather than (coming from him) suspicious, and then nodded sharply in Elena's direction as way of explanation.

"I'm sorry, I don't do mime," Damon drawled. "Care to turn up the volume a little?"

Stefan dragged them both out of earshot, so they were still in line of sight with Elena's house, but well out of earshot.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed.

"A better question would be: what are _you_ doing here?" Damon asked, studying him carefully. "I didn't take stalking to be your style."

"Ugh…" Stefan groaned. "Do you really have nothing better to do with your time than follow me and plague me with misery?"

"Um…is that a trick question?" Damon grinned. "I could do worse you know, like steal your girl, or, you know, start a murderous rampage? I think I've been good, you know, considering."

Stefan managed to keep his temper at bay, and just went for the classic eye roll, deciding that was all he could manage at the moment.

"So?" Damon prompted. "You didn't answer my question."

"You didn't answer mine," Stefan fired back. "And I asked first."

"Older sibling," Damon reminded him, pointing to himself. "Just tell me why you were lurking around Elena's house, looking like a psycho killer about to strike, and I'll leave you well enough alone."

"Why do you even care?" Stefan enquired. "You don't care about Elena. Or at least that's what you've always said to me. Frankly, what you say and what you mean are two different things. Two different ends of the scale."

"You're avoiding the question," Damon pointed out. "You're not really helping your own case here, Stefan."

"I wanted to be there. I wanted to look out for her" Stefan retorted. "Is that a crime?"

"No…but technically stalking is if it gets too extreme," Damon said, smirking. "And I'd count watching a girl's house with those broody eyes of yours as a definite example of stalking."

"We're _together,_" Stefan snarled.

"My God, you're tense," Damon noted. "Want me to rub your shoulders? Give you a massage? No? How about a gallon of fresh human blood? Does _wonders_ for the body I hear."

"You're not going to get me this way," Stefan said, turning away.

Then, the oddest thing happened. Damon grabbed his shoulder, obviously trying to lure him back into the conversation, and a surge of anger exploded inside Stefan. He drew back his fist and then turned to punch Damon in the face. It was strong enough that bones were broken (and immediately fixed within seconds), and even more incredibly, Damon was rendered speechless. It was clear he wanted to fight back, regain some pride, but he seemed to be utterly bemused by Stefan's motivations.

"Leave me alone, Damon, if you know what's good for you," Stefan warned him. "And leave Elena alone, or I won't be held responsible for my own actions."

And he walked off into the darkness, leaving a bewildered Damon staring after him trying to figure out what had just happened.

* * *

><p>"Jeremy, help me set up the table! I see you playing on your stupid car game," Jenna barked. "Not going to work."<p>

She promptly snatched the plug linked to the game console out with a vicious yanking motion, hitting him lightly on the head when he protested.

"It's just a dinner thing," Jeremy said, rubbing his head with exaggerated groans of pain. "What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that he's new to Mystic Falls," Jenna said, clearly flustered. "We need to make him feel welcome."

"Oh yeah?" Elena said slyly, walking into the room with the placemats and cutlery, dressed up but not to the extreme. "So it has nothing to do with the fact that he might be the man from your vision? This is just purely circumstantial, is that right?"

Jenna gave her a _how did you know?_ look but otherwise said nothing to confirm or deny this speculative remark.

"He's supposed to be the new history teacher, right?" Jeremy said, chipping in his two cents for the baiting Jenna game. "Aren't teachers supposed to be old and stuffy?"

"As opposed to what? Young and hot?" Jenna fired back. "You take a keen interest in what your teachers are supposed to look like, Jeremy."

Elena had to laugh at Jeremy's gobsmacked expression. He'd clearly not expected her to turn the joke back onto him. Then again, this was Jenna they were talking about.

"So, what's on the menu?" Elena asked keenly.

"Um, this meaty thing…" Jenna suddenly stopped. "Oh, God, what if he's a vegetarian? I didn't think to ask!"

"Whoa, Jenna," Elena said, mimicking the time out sign Damon had given her yesterday (a subconscious gesture, of course). "Breathe. This is just your nerves getting to you. Just calm down. You've not had a date since Logan, so..."

"A date?" Jenna laughed. "No, this isn't a date. This is just a welcome dinner."

"Yeah, a welcome to Burn-topia, the home world of burned cooking," Jeremy muttered.

Jenna whirled around, grabbing a cushion from the couch and repeatedly assaulting Jeremy over the head with it.

"Not helping," she hissed.

"Child abuse!" Jeremy protested, looking to Elena for support.

"Um, I'm siding with Jenna on this one," Elena said, with a smirk. "You did rile her up."

Pushing himself off the couch, Jeremy grumbled his way out of the living room, making some sort of barely coherent remark about how he couldn't count on anyone in this world.

A knocking sound made them all freeze. Jenna reached out and grabbed Jeremy's hoodie, pulling him back and hissing, "table, now!" before plastering a smile on her face and walking quickly to the door. She pulled it back to reveal a nervous looking Alaric with a bottle of wine in his hand.

"Hi," she said breathlessly.

"Hey," he said, smiling at her. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it yesterday. Glad we could reschedule."

"No problem. Come in," she said, opening the door wider.

He shimmied in, giving her the bottle in the process. She watched him walk inside, her head tilting to one side as she tried to imagine herself on his arm, before a wide smile crossed her face.

She could _so_ see it.

She followed him in, noticing he looked awkward standing there. But he was well dressed, clad in a blue plaid shirt and brown leather jacket, and she noticed how he seemed to run a nervous hand through his hair when he thought she wasn't looking. But it was a habit she found endearing.

"Well, Alaric, this is Elena," she introduced, gesturing towards Elena, who was smiling. "And this is Jeremy."

Jeremy wasn't really smiling but he shook Alaric's hand cordially.

"Yo, what's up?" he asked.

"Nothing," Alaric said, starting to ease up. "Thanks for inviting me here, Jenna. You have a lovely home."

"Not really mine," Jenna confessed, sensing Elena and Jeremy's looked uncomfortable with that mistake. "It's my sister's. Or was. She's dead." She inhaled deeply. "Okay, and I just killed the atmosphere. I'm off to check the food. You can all go sit at the dining table. It'll be five minutes."

"Five minutes until burned food arrives on our plates," Jeremy joked to Alaric, who gave a low chuckle.

As Jeremy and Alaric headed through to the dining room, Elena had intended to hold back and help Jenna in the kitchen, but there was a knock on the door, and so she headed out to the hallway, wondering who on earth was calling at this late hour.

She opened the door and got the shock of her life.

It was Damon. Admittedly an awkward looking Damon, as opposed to the usual arrogant Damon, but nonetheless there he was, standing before her in his usual black leather jacket and dark jeans.

"Damon?" she said suspiciously, unable to hide her surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, am I interrupting something?" he said, eyeing her up and down, noticing her formal attire.

"Yes, actually. Jenna's hosting a dinner party and I – "

"Oh, goody," Damon said, sliding past her. "I love dinner parties."

"Damon – " Elena began, trying to stop him coming in, but it was too late.

Jenna suddenly emerged, looking sweaty and red faced. Her eyes took in Damon, and suddenly there was a sort of nervous schoolgirl look in her eyes, like she was being approached by the popular guy who was notoriously good looking.

"Hey there," she greeted, outstretching a hand. "I'm Jenna, Elena and Jeremy's aunt. You must be Damon, Stefan's brother."

"Why yes," he purred, taking her hand and kissing it, prompting Elena to roll her eyes. "How did you know?"

"Elena's talked about you," Jenna said with a grin.

Elena wanted the earth to just swallow her whole. She knew exactly how Damon would take it, and by his boyish grin, she knew she was right.

"All bad things I hope," he chuckled.

"Look, we're having dinner," Jenna said, giving him a warm smile, whilst at the same hiding fighting to hide her appreciation of his good looks. "I mean, it was meant to be just a family thing, a way to get to know this new guy in town, but would you like to join us? I suspect Elena would appreciate the company."

Elena promptly stopped doing her frantic gestures, and gave a reluctant sigh. She half hoped Damon would say no, that he had something else to do, somewhere else to be, but why did she even bother entertaining the notion? It was clear from the mischief in his eyes he fully intended to accept the invitation.

"You know what, Jenna?" he said, dragging out his answer deliberately. "I would be honoured to join you." He gave Elena a wink. "I think Elena would love the company."

"Where's Stefan?" Elena countered, folding her arms. "Can't he join us too?"

"I'm afraid he's elsewhere tonight," Damon said, the smirk sliding off his face, a meaningful look replacing it, suggesting to Elena there was something he needed to tell her about Stefan.

"Well, I'm happy to meet you," Jenna said happily, either oblivious to Elena's glares, or just ignorant. "Food will be served in….now. I'll get some extra place mats and cutlery."

As soon as Jenna had disappeared, Elena rounded on Damon.

"Where is Stefan?" she asked, looking concerned.

"Sulking probably," Damon said, with a shrug. "He's…. Well, let's say he's not been himself as of late."

"What are you talking about?" Elena asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Well, he's even broodier than normal… if that's even possible," Damon listed. "Not to tell tales or anything, but we were talking earlier, as you do, and he lashed out at me. Now, normally I'd kick his ass for committing such a heinous crime against me, but there's something bothering him. As his girlfriend, I suggest this is a matter you get to the bottom of."

"Are you sure you didn't rile him up?" Elena demanded. "That is your sort of thing, you know."

"How can you even suggest that? After all we've been through?" Damon asked, looking mock hurt. "I was perfectly polite. Didn't cross any lines I shouldn't have, let's put it that way."

Elena didn't look entirely convinced but decided to let it go. Reluctantly, she steered Damon through to the dining table, introducing him quickly to both Jeremy and Alaric. Jeremy took Damon's hand and shook it cordially, which was normal, but when Damon got round to Alaric, she saw the latter seemed to recoil in horror. There was some sort of recognition in his eyes, and she knew she wasn't the only one to have noticed. Damon's eyes narrowed infinitesimally with confusion, but he didn't pursue the matter.

They sat down as Jenna brought through the dinner.

"I hope everyone likes chicken," she said breathlessly. "It's the only thing I can cook without burning it ."

Jeremy coughed, which was a coincident, but Jenna raised the knife jokingly, pretending to aim it at him.

"This looks delicious, Jenna," Alaric said, smiling up at her.

"I agree…. Alaric," Damon said, elongating his name thoughtfully, as if trying to figure out whether he knew him or not. "This looks divine."

"Thanks," Jenna beamed, beginning to dish the food out. "Let's eat."

* * *

><p>Outside the house, a hooded figure gazed broodily ahead, half hidden in the shadows.<p>

"What are you doing here?" a female voice enquired. "It's dangerous for you to be here, and you know it."

He laughed humourlessly.

"Why, because Damon Salvatore is in there?" he quipped, turning to face his dark haired female companion. "I can handle the Salvatores."

"Uh-huh." His companion looked less than convince. "I've been around a few centuries, and you kind of learn a thing or two about underestimating people. Mostly not to do it." She fidgeted restlessly. "She's not Katherine, you know."

"I know," he replied, his eyes fixed on the house. "You've got your mission and I have mine, Anna. I want to have a little fun. Is that a crime?"

"No, but stupidity is," Anna snapped, suddenly cross. "At least it is in my book. If you mess up the plan, you'll ruin it for all of us, Noah. What part of that don't you get?"

Noah didn't say anything, but he didn't appear to have digested her words.

"This blackout is a blessing in disguise for us," Anna continued. "Nobody's going to be looking out for vampires in the wake of this. We need to use this to our advantage." She waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello? Is anyone home? Ugh, your infatuation with the Katherine look-alike is as obvious as it is pathetic."

"I'm not infatuated with her," he said slowly, rotating his head to stare at her. "But Katherine made our lives hell. She toyed with us all, made us sacrifice everything so she could get her pretty hands on those Salvatore brothers. And now it looks like history is repeating itself. But she's human. And I want some fun. What part of _that_ don't _you_ get?"

Anna glared fiercely at him, but let out an exasperated sigh.

"Fine," she said flatly. "Do what you want. But if your little _mission_ interferes with mine, I'll rip your heart out. Got it?"

Noah didn't answer; he watched as she retreated into the shadows, before turning his attention back into the house, the well-rehearsed lie on the tip of his tongue.

Anna meanwhile was shaking her head at her companion's stupidity. She knew it was going to end with him getting killed. Not that she particularly cared; he was a means to an end, that was all. As soon as she had busted her mother out of that tomb – something Damon Salvatore was going to help her with, if she played her cards right – then Mystic Falls would soon be under the control of vampires again, just like before.

But she couldn't shake her flash-forward out of her head. The floppy haired boy, who she knew after some careful digging to be Jeremy Gilbert, was something that was distracting her. It wasn't so much the flash-forward that was bugging her, as opposed to the feelings she'd felt in those few minutes. She remembered feeling a strange surge of affection for Jeremy, which was strange because the only reason she'd looked him up in the first place was so she knew who to kidnap when the tomb was about to be busted open.

She shook her head impatiently, trying to focus on the real mission at hand.

She wasn't going to make this any more complicated than it already was.

* * *

><p>"That was delicious," Alaric complimented, leaning back in his seat. "I've not had a meal as good as that since my wife…." He promptly fell silent. "I've not had a meal as good as that for a long time," he weakly amended.<p>

Jenna took his hand sympathetically.

"Must be tough losing someone you love so suddenly," she said, before turning to the rest of the group. "Alaric's wife went missing, presumed dead."

"That's awful," Damon simpered, still studying Alaric carefully.

"The general consensus is that she was murdered," Alaric said, his voice thick with meaning, his gaze fixated on Damon.

Before Elena could pick up on that, and try to analyse it further, there was another knock on the door. Believing it to be Stefan, Elena quickly called out that she would get it and rose to her feet.

Damon rose to help her, but Jenna told him firmly her niece was perfectly capable of answering the door by herself, before promptly assaulting him with questions, eager to find out more about her new guest.

Elena made her way to the door and opened it, eager to see Stefan but instead found herself staring at a pale faced man around his mid to late twenties.

"Can I help you?" she asked politely, when he seemed unable to proceed.

"Er, yes, hello," he greeted her. "I found your car."

"My car?" Elena had almost forgotten about her car.

"Yes, it was parked in the woods?" he prompted. "I got the license and registration and gave it to the police and it led me to this address. I presume you are Miss Elena Gilbert?"

"Yes, that's me," she said, smiling, yet simultaneously trying to work out why every hair on her body seemed to be standing on edge. "If you tell me where it is, I can retrieve it in the morning." She tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "How did you find it?"

"I was just passing through," he explained. "My car was having some troubles so I pulled it to the side, and that's where I saw the car."

"Oh?"

She edged back, unsure why she didn't trust this man at all.

"I just wanted to let you know," he informed her, seeming to notice her wariness.

"At nine o'clock?" Elena questioned. "Where were you driving from at this hour?"

He stared at her, the faintest of smirks lingering around the outskirts of his jaw. She couldn't help but feel a cold shudder rush down her spine.

"Didn't mean to bother you, Miss," he said, retreating a few steps.

"It's no problem," she managed to get out, waiting until he was out of sight.

She took a couple of steps outside, making sure he was gone, before feeling her clenched muscles relax. She turned round to go back inside but found herself moving backwards at an alarming speed. Her back slammed against the wall, and she found herself gazing at a pair of cold dark eyes. Before she could scream, her attacker slammed a hand against her mouth and opened his mouth to bite down.

Then, equally as fast, her attacker was yanked backwards, and then promptly disappeared. Sliding down the wall, Elena buried her head in her hands, her breathing coming out in short, frightened bursts, before she felt safe enough to look up at her saviour which, once again, happened to be Damon.

"Who was that?" she managed to get out, as he helped her to her feet.

"That's what I'd like to know," Damon said grimly, gazing out into the darkness before turning back towards her. "Are you okay?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.

"Yes," Elena said, her voice shaky. "How did you know …?"

"To come out?" Damon finished her question. "I just had a feeling someone bad would be at the door. Call it a gut instinct." His eyes twinkled. "I'm glad to see you took my warning about being careful who you invited in to heart."

"Thank you," she said earnestly, staring up into his blue eyes, feeling weak with gratitude.

And simultaneously, they both stared into the night, wondering who the hell had suddenly – and violently – entered their lives, both of them dwelling on the fact that this was the second time Damon had saved her life.

Stefan's absence weighed on Elena's heart, threatening to crush it, yet she knew there was a bigger picture to all of this, knew there was something he wasn't telling her.

And without having a flash-forward, she knew things were going to get a hell of a lot worse if she didn't confront him.


	6. Better Days

Chapter 6: Better Days

* * *

><p>After her near death experience, Elena and Damon returned inside, the dinner party drawing to a close. Jenna came and told them to go sit down whilst she served dessert, giving Elena a meaningful look when Damon wasn't looking.<p>

"What?" Elena mouthed.

"He's so hot," Jenna mouthed back, although a little bit of sound traipsed out of her mouth.

Elena couldn't see Damon's expression, but his shoulders shook ever so slightly, which gave her the impression he'd heard and found her comment amusing. She rolled her eyes and then decided to amend Jenna's observation before Damon's ego grew to dangerous heights.

"He's an ass," she responded, before walking past him, sending him a smirk.

As they reconvened in the dining room, Alaric had obviously decided to reign in his inexplicable anger towards Damon, because he suddenly took on a charming approach, extending his hand towards the vampire and giving it a firm shake.

"It's lovely to meet you, Damon," he said, his voice warm, yet his eyes stayed cold and distant. "I'm sorry I didn't get to say that sooner." He turned to Elena. "Are you two dating?" he asked, obviously trying to make more of an effort, the casualness in his voice too feigned to be taken seriously by anyone.

Damon, who had been taking a sip of water, spat out his drink, whilst Elena's jaw dropped. As they both struggled to respond, Jeremy, who was still at the table and hadn't moved, gave a loud guffaw and then promptly choked on the piece of food he'd still been chewing.

"Oh dear God, did I kill someone?" Jenna suddenly shrieked, running into the room. Her eyes spotted Jeremy and she immediately calmed down. "Oh, another joke at my expense," she growled, giving Alaric a look as if to say _I get this grief all the time._ "Well, how 'bout next time I put _you_ in charge of cooking?"

As soon as Jeremy had recovered, he tried to make a joke, but she'd returned to the kitchen before he could make it.

"We're not dating," Elena said quickly, before the question remained unanswered, and Alaric was left assuming they _were_ dating. "He's my boyfriend's brother."

"Yeah," Damon said, unable to wipe the look of amusement off his face. "She's dating my brother, Stefan. Alas, I remain a bachelor. At least for now."

He wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully at Elena, who blushed and ducked under the table under the pretence she'd dropped her spoon. She had to be careful not to drop her guard around Damon, because as much as she tried to loathe him, he was starting to chip away at the walls she'd put up around him. He'd saved her life twice, but it was beyond that; she was, dare she say it, starting to like him. As a friend, naturally, but it was still dangerous territory to enter.

"So, what did you see, Ric?" Damon had changed the subject. "Can I call you Ric? You look like a Ric. Alaric just sounds so…teacher-y."

"I am a teacher," Alaric replied lightly, though his voice sounded strained. "But, yes, you can call me Ric." He leaned forward, playing with his glass absent-mindedly. "I'd rather not discuss the details of my flash-forward, if you don't mind."

"Why, was it too intimate?" Damon prodded. "Too X-rated?" He poked his tongue out. "C'mon, I don't mind hearing all the horny details."

"Damon!" Elena protested loudly.

"I love this guy," Jeremy murmured to Elena, who just rolled her eyes.

Alaric didn't seem to answer, but his skin tone darkened a shade, and it seemed abundantly clear to Elena that Damon _was_ aware Alaric seemed to detest him, and was baiting him as a result.

"Pudding," Jenna announced, producing a chocolate cake. "Sadly, this is store bought, but hey, looks pretty darn good, right?"

She placed it on the table, reaching for her glass.

"Let's have a toast," she proposed. "Damon – would you do the honours?"

"Certainly, Jenna," Damon said, inclining his head, raising his glass and standing to his feet. "To friends, old and new. And, as a poet once said – I forget which one - 'It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.'"

"Wow," Elena breathed, looking strangely moved.

"I love a man who can recite poetry at will," Jenna sighed, a giddy schoolgirl smile plastered to her face.

"What does that even mean?" Jeremy asked, puzzled.

"It means we are the controllers of our own destinies, and that no matter how dark our souls may be, we still hold the ability to change," Damon interpreted, giving Elena a warm smile which, for once, seemed to touch his eyes. "I'm not a big believer in fate, but I think these flash-forwards have a meaning."

"Oh, yeah?" Alaric cocked an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "And what possible meaning could you find for having the entire world black out with millions of people dead as a result?"

"It's a reminder of how precious life can be," Damon explained. "And how we shouldn't take the people we love for granted."

He raised his glass even higher.

"To love," he said, conjuring up Katherine in his mind.

"To love," everyone chorused, Alaric only joining in reluctantly.

Damon's eyes looked to Elena – as if seeking her approval – and she smiled warmly at him, unable to disguise her surprise.

The small group then ate their pudding in silence, Elena still pondering over how Damon could irritate her in one breath, and then reduce her to utter speechlessness (in a good way) in another. She was starting to realize he was more than a one-dimensional character, although she had yet to explore his other sides. She liked this side to him, the side of a man who could interact with people without resulting into turning them, or feeding on them, or making them his play toy.

Once everyone had finished dessert, Jenna rounded up the plates, with Damon immediately offering to help her with the washing up. Alaric and Jeremy started talking, which meant Elena was stuck with either staring around the room, waiting for Damon to come back, or going to help Jenna and Damon.

Just as she'd settled on doing the second option, there was, incredibly, another knock on the door. With a sense of dread, Elena crept towards the door, her heart in her mouth. She opened it cautiously, relieved when it turned out to be Stefan, who was holding a bouquet of lilies.

"Stefan," she said, with genuine surprise. "I wasn't expecting to see you."

He gazed at her, utter reverence in his eyes.

"These are for you," he said, handing her the bouquet.

"Oh, Stefan," she gasped, looking at the flowers with awe. "They're beautiful. Why - ? What have I done to deserve these?"

"Putting up with me," Stefan replied sheepishly. "I wanted to apologize. I've not been the best boyfriend lately, and, well, I know these won't exactly make up for my absence, but I just wanted to remind you I'm still here, still madly in love with you, so if you're up for giving out second chances – "

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Still holding the flowers, Elena had thrown her arms around him, realizing despite the fact he hadn't gone anyway, she had _missed_ him.

"I was so worried," she said, stroking the sides of his face. "I felt like for a moment your phone was the only part of you I was ever going to hear from."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I've just been…" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

Elena bit her lip, remembering what Damon had told her about Stefan not being himself, and knew at some point she had to confront Stefan about the thing he was hiding from her. But not tonight. She just didn't have it in her to start any arguments or heavy discussions.

So, instead, she leaned in to kiss his lips, the moment chaste and tender.

She turned to walk inside, beckoning him to follow, and stopped dead when she saw Damon standing there, holding a wet plate. It wasn't such a strange sight, except she could see some sort of hurt in his eyes that she couldn't explain, not even to herself. He seemed to be struggling with some inner conflict, before wiping his face clean of all expression.

"Hello, brother," he greeted Stefan. "You missed a great dinner."

"You missed Damon reciting a little poetry too," Jenna chipped in, walking past. "Those flowers are gorgeous." She smiled at Stefan. "I'll put them in some water," she said, taking them off Elena and walking off.

And Elena was left standing between the man she was sure she loved with all her heart, and the man who fate dictated she would love in six months. Well, it was less than six months now, and somehow that made all the difference.

She couldn't help but thinking there was something in Damon's eyes which looked close to disappointment, as though he'd been hoping the past few days had been enough to change her opinion of him.

She closed her eyes, wishing she could say it had.

But she knew he had a long way to go before winning her respect. Yes, he'd saved her life – twice – and this evening had surprised her, which was all down to Damon, but his past misdeeds still weighed heavily upon her heart. Sometimes even when she was Stefan, she saw him staking Vickie like it was that easy to do, and she'd have to force herself back into the moment.

She knew what she'd gotten herself into, but sometimes being in love with a vampire was completely confusing.

And being around Damon, if anything, just made her life even more confusing.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Caroline was up with the sun, which was a first.<p>

Sitting by her dresser, she applied her make-up and started to strengthen the curls in her hair, when a strange tapping sound caught her attention. It stopped after a few seconds, before starting up again.

_Tap._ Pause. _Tap._ Pause.

Irritated, Caroline flounced over to her window, wondering if it was coming from outside. Her gaze travelled downwards, to the dark haired figure looking up at her window, and she rolled her eyes.

"You ever heard of knocking, Tyler?" she demanded. "My mom will kill you if she catches you."

"She left ten minutes ago," Tyler told her. "I'm not suicidal you know."

At that, Caroline had to chuckle. Every boy in Mystic Falls was afraid of her mother, whereas she felt divided between being irritated at the fact she had to be the Sheriff's daughter, meaning no boy ever dared to come near her, let alone date her, and being grateful that her mom's job meant she was out a lot, meaning they didn't share a lot of conversations they both genuinely didn't like having.

"What do you want?" she asked impatiently. "I've got school."

"I know. So do I," Tyler reminded her. "I wanted to, um, see how you were."

"You threw stones at my window…just to see how I was?" Caroline repeated, sounding flummoxed. "What's your angle, Lockwood? I told you, I didn't care about that stupid flash-forward. It's not happening."

"I know," he said, sounding faintly irritated. "The world blacked out, Car. Forgive me for wanting to see if you were okay."

She tried desperately to ignore the small sly voice in the back of her head which was currently saying _Matt's not checking on you like this. This is sweet – just go with it._

"I'm fine," she replied, still looking confused. "Look, I didn't mean to snap at you yesterday…"

"It's fine, I deserved it," Tyler said, looking awkward. "I'm sorry for pushing my boundaries, Caroline. I know I'm probably just an arrogant ass to you. But it seems six months from now something's going to bring us together as friends. I - Even though Matt's my best friend, I sometimes feel like I don't belong, like there's something wrong with me. There are some moments where I get so aggravated I lash out at people who don't deserve it. It's why I don't have many friends." He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "So, the other day, I was just trying to make one more. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Tyler…" Caroline began, suddenly looking unsure.

"Don't worry," he said, smiling up at her. "I get it. You're busy."

"No," she said, returning his smile "Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to come inside."

He looked as though he thought she might have been joking. Her request had taken them both by surprise. But after a moment's silence, he grinned.

"I'd love to."

"I'll just get the door," she said, sounding uncharacteristically shy, as she moved back away from the window.

He grinned, surprised by the lengths he was going to in order to gain the friendship of Caroline Forbes, of all people. But he knew how he'd felt in his flash-forward. He'd felt conflicted and troubled, yet as her arms had locked around him, he'd felt a moment's security, felt like the world wasn't as dark as it seemed to be. That feeling he was ashamed to say wasn't one he'd ever felt before. And now he knew what it tasted like, he was determined to gain it before the allotted time.

Who said that fate controlled their choices?

Why couldn't he make that vision come true for himself sooner rather than later?

And, more importantly, why couldn't he wipe this stupid, lovesick grin off his face?

* * *

><p>"Earth to Elena, it's your best friend, Bonnie, calling."<p>

Bonnie waved a hand across Elena's zoned out face. The latter girl jumped, like she'd been sleeping and not just staring into space, and looked around in alarm before remembering where she was.

"Where were you?" Bonnie teased. "Back here on earth, I wanted to tell you something."

"Sorry, Bonnie," Elena apologized. "My mind drifted."

Specifically, it had drifted to Stefan and the big secret he was keeping from her. After their sweet reunion – well, it had felt like a reunion of sorts, which kind of said a lot about Stefan's absence – yesterday, she'd wondered whether Damon was just trying to stir things, because she couldn't see any discernible sign that Stefan was troubled by something.

But she'd spent the night at his house and she'd seen how distant he'd been. It had started with little moments where he'd zoned out. Then, it got to the point where if the word flash-forward was mentioned, he repressed a shudder. Soon, she'd had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying something, because it became clear he was too distracted, and when he did snap himself back into the present, his kisses had felt too forced, too desperate.

"Is anything bothering you?" Bonnie asked quietly.

"Other than the fact Stefan may or may not be hiding something from me, no," Elena said, sounding weary. "I don't want to talk about it – distract me. What was this wonderful bit of news you wanted to impart on me?"

Bonnie held up a leaflet. It was some sort of advert for a dance.

"There was supposed to be a dance at the school, but since the school is still closed for renovation, Mayor Lockwood decided, to boost morale, to hold a dance at the Lockwood Estate," she said, smiling. "Sounds good doesn't it? I think you have to buy tickets, though. Apparently the proceeds go to fixing up the town."

"A dance?" Elena looked dubious. "Doesn't sound right having a dance when the world is still recovering from the blackout."

"That's just it, isn't it? Everything's about those stupid flash-forwards," Bonnie persisted. "People are so focused on their futures, they're forgetting to live in the present. Yourself included."

She dangled the leaflet in front of Elena's face.

"This could be the break we need," she offered. "It's a distraction, if only for the one night. And, hell, it'll be an excuse to dress up and just have fun. What's not to like about this?"

"Stefan won't want to go, and I'm not going if he isn't," Elena said, folding her arms. "He hates dancing. Well, he doesn't _hate_ it, but I get the feeling it doesn't make him comfortable."

"So? Drag him along," Bonnie answered. "Use your puppy dog eyes, the ones he can never say no to. And if he doesn't want to go, drag someone else along."

"Like who?" Elena asked, amused. "Damon?"

Bonnie made a vehement noise in the back of her throat, as if she'd tasted something horrible, which made Elena laugh.

"God, no," Bonnie spluttered. "I'm sorry I even brought up the idea of dragging someone else along."

"He's not that bad," Elena said, trailing off when she saw Bonnie's frozen look of horror. "Oh, no…. I didn't mean…"

"I'd be careful if I were you," Bonnie said grimly. "Sounds like you're in dangerous territory here. You know, doubting Stefan, beginning to trust Damon… Your vision is practically coming true."

"Nuh-uh," Elena responded, shaking her head. "Look, Damon may have shown another side to him, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten what he's done. Relax, Bonnie. I'm not letting that vision happen."

"Uh-huh…" Bonnie said doubtfully, looking carefully at Elena.

The two girls were sitting outside Bonnie's house, specifically in the garden, mostly catching each other up on the events they'd missed since last they'd met. Sprawled out on the lawn, Elena gazed up at the blue sky, wishing her thoughts were as clear as the sky right now. Everything seemed to be a mess in her head right now, whether she was thinking about Stefan, Damon or even her life at home. Jeremy didn't really seem too concerned with the flash-forwards, not even his own, and Jenna was still sceptical about the authenticity of them, unable to conceive the idea that she would throw away her morals and principles for a baby she wasn't even sure she wanted.

"You know those simple days, those days when all we had to worry about was boys and what to wear each day?" she mused aloud.

"Vaguely," Bonnie murmured, chuckling under her breath.

"I miss 'em."

"Me too," Bonnie replied, reaching out and squeezing Elena's hand. "But we don't have to say goodbye to them. We can just make new ones. Better ones."

Elena turned her head to stare at her friend, giving her a faint smile.

"So, a dance huh?" she enquired wryly.

"Yep," Bonnie said, laughing. "It might be a laugh. It might even be, dare I say it, fun."

"Fun? Afraid the word has lost all meaning to me," Elena said humorously.

She then gave a heavy sigh.

"Gotta decide what to wear now," she said, pulling a face. "What a pain."

Bonnie gave her a light push, causing both girls to erupt into laughter, unaware Damon was just around the corner, his eyes fixated on Elena, her laughter on repeat inside his own head.

He had come here to try and make amends with Bonnie (or rather, try and wheedle out of her any information she might've gathered about opening the tomb now that the crystal was gone), now that the dust had settled, but had become distracted – by Elena of all people. She was sprawled across the grass, her hair across her face, giggling like she was utterly free. He hadn't seen her like that before; even in the bar in Atlanta, he'd noticed a touch of reservation about her, like even whilst intoxicated she knew the dangers of hanging around with him.

He retreated around the corner, heading back to the street, trying to focus his mind on the task in hand. Sure, he'd had a blast with Elena in Atlanta. It didn't mean anything, even though for one evening he'd seen what she was like with (nearly) all her walls down, a giddy smile on her face like she was a child.

He shook his head, suddenly worried by where his thoughts were heading.

It seemed more often than not it was Elena he was thinking about, not Katherine, which meant he needed a serious priority adjustment.

Rubbing his head anxiously, Damon quickened his pace as he walked down the street, deciding despite the time of day he needed to hit the booze.

Fate or not, the fact that the Grill had been left unscathed by the consequences of the blackout had been a fantastic bit of fortuitous luck.

* * *

><p>She couldn't help but still revel about how much Mystic Falls had managed to both change and yet seem like the same town she'd lived in all those years ago. The same prudish, stuck up people still seemed to exist, constantly prying into each other's businesses, their attitudes to vampires (those that knew) still the same as before. And though a lot of buildings had been damaged by the world blacking out, it still physically resembled the town of 1864.<p>

The only real difference seemed to be in the fact Anna, for once, had no idea who knew what, and what methods were being used to protect people. Vervain was presumably still the weapon of choice, but it would've helped to know which families were vulnerable and which were armed. The first night she'd come back here, she'd tried to feast on a young woman on a jog, but had sunken her teeth in only to end up reeling back in disgust.

Anna shook her head, constantly baffled by people's attitudes towards vampires. Not all of them were the stereotypically hungry, monstrous beasts everyone seemed to think they were. Some were careful, very subtle with their attacks, and most nowadays elected to not kill their victim. The ever popular method nowadays seemed to be compelling the victim, feeding, and then making sure the victim didn't remember a damn thing. It was easier that way.

She walked into the Mystic Grill, determined to plan out how she was going to rope Damon Salvatore, her only real chance at getting her mother back, on her side when he had no weaknesses she could get at.

She brushed against someone, the action jolting her out of her thoughts.

"Sorry," she apologized, looking up at the person she'd bumped into.

Her heart – which was admittedly a little slower on the uptake since her death and subsequent rebirth (of sorts) – skidded to a halt.

It was Jeremy Gilbert.

Judging by his stunned reaction, she could tell he'd managed to identify her as being the girl in his vision. _Damn it._ She was hoping not to have roped him in until the last possible second. She didn't want this to be complicated.

"Hey," she said, giving him her best shy smile.

"You're the – " Jeremy began, then realized perhaps being blunt wasn't the best way forward. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Jeremy."

She wanted to say _I know_ but it sounded too stalkerish. There were rules here that hadn't applied in 1864. She had to tread lightly, because in her flash-forward she'd known at some point she'd revealed her true identity to him, and he seemed to accept her for who she was, a fact which proving discomforting to her.

Sure, that event was six months (less now) away, but that knowledge was stored away inside her head, and it was difficult to shove into a dark corner and forget about it.

"I'm Anna," she replied, shaking his hand when he extended it. "I'm, um, new to Mystic Falls. Guess I came at a bad time, huh?"

Jeremy laughed, which made his eyes (which seemed sunken and heavy) lighten up. She liked his laugh, which was a bad observation to make for two reasons: a) she was making the damn observation in the first place, which meant she was already paying too much attention than she should've, and b) she was already feeling a sort of attraction towards him which was going to be substantially difficult to ignore.

"Guess you did," Jeremy replied, eyeing her with a mixture of pleasant surprise and guilt. "Listen, we don't need to talk about… what we saw."

"What we saw?" she asked, keeping the right amount of innocence in her voice, tucking a stray hair behind her ear to keep up the charade.

"The flash-forwards? We were in each other's?" Jeremy prompted.

"You don't really believe they'll come true?" Anna questioned, looking shyly at him.

"I dunno," he said, shrugging. "I didn't even think you existed until now. Seeing you, weirdly enough, has made me believe. At least a little bit."

"Well, I do exist," she said, winking to show she wasn't completely innocent. "At least, I did the last time I checked."

He laughed again.

"I was about to search for a new opponent," he said, gesturing to the pool table behind him. "Guess I just found 'em."

She gazed up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, but I warn you, I'm good," she informed him.

Actually, this was going better than planned, she realized. She was earning his trust, which meant when the time came to use his blood to resuscitate her mother, all she would need to do was lure him out to the woods. Easy.

"I'll believe that when I see it," Jeremy snorted. "I'm the undisputed pool champion of Mystic Falls."

She lightly nudged that.

"Okay, I'll believe _that_ when _I_ see it," she said, using his own words, grinning up at him. "What shall we say, winner gets bragging rights?"

"And the loser buys the winner a drink," Jeremy proposed.

Anna took his hand and shook it.

"You've got a deal," she said, smiling, realizing halfway through the motion it wasn't entirely feigned.

Well, at least she could comfort herself in the knowledge that her acting skills would make this easier than she'd originally thought.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thanks for all the reviews guys! :D Loved writing the dinner scene. So far this is my favourite chapter because of all the different dynamics going on. Could our favourite bad boy be starting to care about Elena? ;) Well, we'll see. Next chapter brings a very unexpected visitor. :D I actually love writing Anna, which was something I discovered in this chapter. Hope I kept her in character for you guys. :D The poem lines Damon recites, just for your information, are from Invictus by William Ernest Henley. :)**


	7. Demons Awoken

Chapter 7: Demons Awoken

* * *

><p>"So…." Elena held up two dresses – one black, one dark purple. "Which one?"<p>

Stefan purveyed them, his eyes turning thoughtful.

"The black one," he proposed. "It's simple, it's elegant, and I can't wait to see you in it."

Elena giggled.

"How did I wind up with the perfect boyfriend?" she mused aloud. "I was wavering more towards the black myself. Purple isn't really my colour."

She laid the black dress onto the bed, tucking the purple one back into her wardrobe before coming over to sit next to Stefan on the bed, leaning over to kiss his lips softly.

"You okay?" she asked, scrutinising him carefully.

"Yeah," he replied, cupping her face. "I've never been better."

"You would tell me if something was wrong, right?" she enquired. "I know I burden you with all my drama, but it's okay to burden me with yours too." She rubbed his shoulder. "I mean, I don't even know what you saw in your flash-forward."

"Yes, you do," he reminded her. "I was on my way to meeting you."

The lie almost choked him but he kept his composure, his fists clenching by his side. Her innocent expression was making his throat dry – he needed alcohol, or some kind of socially acceptable equivalent because he felt like he was going to explode with the guilt.

"How could you have been?" Elena asked, with a frown. "My flash-forward didn't involve me meeting you?"

"I thought you said it did."

Elena suddenly realized what she'd said, and a deep flush spread across her face. She just remembered that was what she'd said when Stefan and her had briefly discussed the flash-forwards, and now she'd completely contradicted that statement. She was going to have to tell him the truth, or risk looking like a complete idiot.

"Alright, don't be mad," she pleaded, holding his hands. "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

"Wrong idea?" Stefan questioned, puzzled.

She inhaled deeply, trying to mentally prepare herself to stab Stefan in the back.

"I was with Damon," she said slowly, releasing the statement in a single breath.

"And?" Stefan didn't look mad at all. "Were you at the Grill or something?"

Elena tilted her head to one side, confused by Stefan's remarkably calm attitude, until she recalled what she'd said. She'd made it sound like she was just hanging out with Damon. _Oh, God…_

"We were _together,_" she enunciated, waiting for the ball to drop.

Stefan frowned, his mind taking in what she was saying. Then, his face whitened a shade as the penny dropped. His lips tightened marginally, and he pushed himself off the bed, starting to pace around the room, which had Elena's beating a little faster than it should've gone.

"Stefan…" she began.

"How… I mean, _how?_" Stefan asked, rubbing his head agitatedly.

"I don't know," she said anxiously. "But it doesn't mean anything, Stefan. Nobody knows if these will even come true! And shouldn't we take these as a _warning?_ Maybe we should look at them as a way of changing our futures."

"Why didn't you tell me, Elena?" Stefan asked, ignoring everything she'd said.

"Because you didn't tell me yours!" Elena protested, her anxious tone evolving into an irritated one. "Why are you lecturing me on secrecy when you've done exactly the same thing?"

"It's… It's complicated," Stefan spluttered.

"Complicated? Well, let me simplify it for you," Elena snapped. "There's the truth – and there's lying. There's no in between point. I'm being honest with you now, so please be honest with me. _What did you see?"_

She was hurt that Stefan couldn't be honest with her. Hurt, and a little bit angry. After everything they'd been through, she'd still stuck by him, even though the wisest course of action would've probably have been to cut off all contact with him and Damon. She'd allowed her heart to rule her head, and she didn't really regret it. But his hesitancy in being honest with her, his anger at something that hadn't even happened yet, was irritating her to the point where she was starting to think (although not seriously) about whether that had been the right choice to make.

"How can you and Damon be together?" Stefan retorted, looking angry, ignoring her question.

"Okay, who are you right now?" Elena demanded, folding her hands. "Where's the normal, reasonable Stefan who doesn't get jealous at the mere mention of Damon?"

Stefan realized she was making a good point, but he wasn't quite ready to admit that he was being irrational. Thanks to her, he now had this mental image of her and Damon together, which hadn't been there before, and it was tearing him apart. Before, he'd been suffocating in his emotions – now, he was _buried_ in them.

"I'm sorry," he said, exhaling sharply. "That was out of line."

"Yes, it was," Elena said, her eyes softening. "Look, just because I _saw_ me and Damon in love doesn't mean we will… What?" She saw Stefan's eyes and felt frightened. "Stefan, what is it?"

"You were in love with him?" Stefan questioned, feeling as though something had slammed into him at a million miles per hour.

"Well….yeah," Elena said in a small voice. "I thought I'd made that clear?"

He pinched the ridge of his nose, feeling not so much angry but hurt. He knew it hadn't happened yet, that it wasn't due to happen for less than six months, but he couldn't help but treat Elena's confession like it had already happened. And it was something made even worse hearing her say they'd been _in love_.

"I don't see how this can get any worse," he said to himself, blinking when he realized he'd said that aloud.

His eyes fell to Elena's, his conscience kicking in when he saw her hurt and confused expression.

"You know what," she said, gathering up as much dignity as she could. "If this is going to be a problem, I'll go to the dance all by myself."

"Elena…" he began, moving to touch her.

"Don't," she snapped angrily, stepping backwards. "If you decide to grow up in the next few hours or so, by all means come to the dance and we'll sort this out. Otherwise, just stay away."

She realized she probably was making things worse by arguing with Stefan, but she couldn't let his behaviour slide. Something he'd seen was making him behave like this, she was sure, but if he wasn't going to tell her, then why bother even trying to help?

He gave her a helpless glance as she strode over to the door and glared at him meaningfully, before walking forwards, feeling like a complete idiot as he did so, and leaving her room, the burning desire for alcohol taking over him at an even stronger level.

As he exited the house, his eyes facing downwards, his mood sombre, he felt himself flying backwards, his back slamming against the wall, a finger pressed against his lips. His eyes focused and the figure he came across both stunned him and angered him.

"Hello, Stefan," his attacker purred, her lips against his ear. "Miss me?"

"Katherine," Stefan said, with gritted teeth.

* * *

><p>"You were stupid to go to her house with one of the Salvatores there," Anna chided Noah, absent-mindedly flicking through one of the many journals she'd picked up through…persuasive techniques. "You were lucky not to get killed."<p>

"I could've taken him," Noah growled, fixing his tux. "Still, there's a dance tonight. I'll have my fun tonight."

"You look like a dork in that," Anna commented with a dry chuckle. "You do know that, right?"

"Hey, I gotta blend, okay?" Noah protested. "I can't show up there in a hoodie. You think I like wearing these things?" He tugged at his collar with disgust. "I couldn't look more like a dick if I tried."

Anna gave another dry chuckle before tossing the journal she'd been reading to one side.

"This tells me nothing I don't already know," she declared vehemently. "Ugh. I'm thinking if I run out of options, I might have to kidnap the Katherine doppelganger myself. Try and weasel some information out of the Salvatore brothers."

"What makes you think they know anything?"

"They might not know anything," Anna replied. "But their father probably has a journal tucked away somewhere. Giuseppe Salvatore was always one for writing down everything in his journal. I'm thinking the way to get the tomb open will be in there."

"I could get the girl for you," Noah said eagerly.

"Think I trust you to get her?" Anna drawled, looking at him with thinly veiled contempt. "You wouldn't leave her alive."

"I would," Noah said, a lazy smile emerging. "I'd just have my fun with her first."

"What does that entail exactly? A friendly game of football? A picnic in the park?" Anna looked at him squarely. "We both know your idea of fun is the same idea of fun a serial killer has."

"True," he agreed. "But she's _human_, Anna. A human version of Katherine. Wouldn't you take advantage of that?"

"No, because I'm more sensible than that," Anna told him shortly. "Look, go to the dance tonight. Have your fun. But leave her alive, Noah. She's leverage at best, a way to get revenge at worst."

Noah smirked at her, before completing the finishing touches to his look.

"What's up with you and this Jeremy kid anyway?" he asked, changing the subject. "He seemed to know you."

She shoved him. "You've been _spying_ on me?"

"More like keeping an eye out," he said defensively. "That's something you taught me remember?"

"Yeah, but who taught you how to be a dork?" she asked, smirking. "And nothing's going on – he's just my ticket to getting my mother back."

"Uh-huh, well why can't we just use the girl? She's a Gilbert," Noah pointed out. "Less hassle that way."

"Well, I was thinking of letting you have her once her use runs its course," Anna replied slyly. "A little reward for your help."

A wide grin emerged on Noah's face.

"You're awesome, Anna."

"So I've been told," she said, grinning back at him. "But that little prize comes with its own terms and conditions."

He groaned, figuring maybe he should've predicted this.

"One," Anna said, holding up a finger. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Like?"

"Like provoking the Salvatores," Anna warned. "They're not the brightest crayons in the crayon box, but you don't want to piss them off. Two, try not to screw up and kill the girl. Something tells me it's not a coincidence she looks exactly like Katherine Pierce, and I'm kinda curious. And three, try not to draw attention to yourself. The tux is fine, but try to remember there are going to be vampire hunters there tonight."

"So?"

"So, just control yourself," Anna hissed. "If an idea pops into your brain, ignore it because it'll probably end up getting you killed."

"I'm already gonna be dead within six months, Anna, so why can't I have fun until then?" Noah asked.

"You're really accepting these flash-forwards are happening then?" Anna rolled her eyes. "They're not gonna come true you idiot! The media likes to scaremonger."

"Oh yeah? So the whole world saw the same day in the _future_, and you think it's just, what, a coincidence?"

"I think we'd be stupid to believe the so-called "experts"," Anna retorted. "Nobody's seen this kind of thing before, even us, so let's not panic about something that we may – or in your case, may _not_ – have seen."

She pushed past him, hiding her expression of disconcertment.

It was so much easier to believe a lie when it came from someone else's lips.

When it came from her own lips, the truth was always in the back of her mind, nagging away at her, making it difficult for her to ignore it.

As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she did kind of like the feeling she felt in her vision. She'd not allowed herself to feel for a long time, determined to make sure rescuing her mother from her prison was her main priority. Emotions just clogged everything up, slowed the whole process down.

And yet, like always, they seemed to be getting in the way now.

* * *

><p>Once again, the Lockwoods had gone to a lot of lengths to impress.<p>

They had gone for a blue and silver theme, with the decorations and tableware keeping to it. They'd dug out their best chandeliers and crystal glasses, and on the main table there was a beautiful glass punch bowl filled with a pink liquid. Everywhere was clean and well organized, which was only to be expected considering this was the Lockwoods they were talking about.

Of course, Elena barely noticed this, so preoccupied was she by her argument with Stefan. She barely even noticed Bonnie and Caroline waving frantically at her until they'd bounded over to her.

"Earth to Elena," Bonnie commanded. "Where you at, girl?"

"Sorry," Elena apologized, shaking her head. "Just got a lot on my mind."

"Where's Stefan?" Caroline asked, sounding a little too keen for Elena's liking.

"He's not coming," was Elena's short answer. "We had a fight."

"So, I'm guessing you're going to need a drink?" Bonnie guessed.

"Lots of 'em," Elena replied.

"We'll go and get the drinks," Bonnie said with a smile. "You stay there and reserve us that space on the dance floor, okay?"

"Got it," Elena replied, trying to perk up a little.

The music wasn't really music to dance to just yet. In typical Lockwood fashion, the opening music selection consisted of a quartet of nervous and geeky looking men playing elegant music. She felt the aching absence of Stefan and sighed heavily.

"Well, well, Stefan given up and gone home already?" someone murmured against her ear, making her jump.

"I'm not in the mood, Damon," she said sourly, turning to face him.

"This dance music kind of blows," he commented, as if echoing her thoughts. "This was cool in the 1860's, but not now." He looked at her miserable face, a thought springing to his mind. "Give me a second."

She watched with faint interest as he swerved his way around the few couples that had decided this music was their sort of music to dance to, heading towards the band members. By his stance, she guessed he was compelling them, and she hadn't really the strength or the energy to scold him for it.

Within seconds, the music had changed into something more upbeat, and a faint smile emerged across her face as she recognized the song being played.

"Really, Damon?" she enquired as he sauntered forwards. "Out of all the songs, you had to pick _this_ one?"

"It's a tune close to my heart," Damon said, folding his hands over his heart.

"Damon… it's _Sex On Fire._"

"Like I said," he said, with a wink, "it's a tune close to my heart."

"Gross," Elena said, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust.

"Dance with me?" he asked, extending a hand.

"I'm not in the mood," she replied, shaking her head.

"So you're at a dance and you don't feel like dancing…?" Damon said slowly. "Okay, I see why you've come here. Makes total sense. I always come to a dance when I'm angry and in an anti-dancing mood."

She laughed despite herself. It did sound silly when Damon put it like that.

"Alright," she agreed. "Just one dance though."

She took his hand, realizing this probably wasn't the smartest move she'd ever made, but hell, Damon had been sort of sweet recently. Well, as sweet as a homicidal, psychopathic, selfish vampire could be.

"I'm not that fun Elena I used to be you know," she commented, swinging her hips and laughing at Damon, as he took her hands and began to sway his body sensually.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied airily, releasing one hand and twirling her around, watching a reluctant grin emerge on her face, "You're doing okay."

And he couldn't help but want to make her smile. When he saw that smile, despite everything, it brightened his day a little. To keep up appearances, he could easily pretend it was because the smile reminded him of Katherine's, and that was the reason why he loved it, but secretly Elena's smile seemed to hold more emotion, more sincerity than Katherine's. You knew where you stood with Elena's smile.

Immediately after that thought had dawned inside his mind, Damon frowned.

_What was he doing?_

He was starting to think he was losing it. For all Elena's virtues, she was merely a flower under the sun of Katherine. She was beautiful and kind, true, but Katherine possessed a fire that both frightened and excited him. He could take risks with her, and her kisses were enough to start a fire, and he missed her like crazy.

And yet despite everything he'd just said, he couldn't keep his eyes off Elena – and when he looked at her, he saw _her_ not Katherine.

Good God, he was screwed.

* * *

><p>In a violent move, Stefan slammed Katherine up against the wall. He studied her carefully, before his face twisted into a snarl and he'd dragged her away just so he could slam her up against the wall again.<p>

"Feel better?" she purred. "I would've dropped by sooner but, you know, there's just so much to preoccupy a girl like me."

"You're supposed to be in the tomb," he snarled, every vein in his face popping out on display. "Me and Damon believed you to be _dead!_"

"Ah, yes," Katherine mused, pretending to look concerned. "I did mean to drop by and amend my death certificate but, well, pretending to be dead has its advantages."

Stefan spun her away from Elena's house, pinning her to the ground. In a flash, she'd swapped positions, so that she was the one on top of him, a broad grin lighting up her face.

"If you wanted to play rough, Stefan, all you had to do was say," she drawled, letting a soft chuckle escape her lips.

She lowered her face so that it was only inches away from his, her lips hovering delicately above his. He turned his head to one side, determined not to let her get the best of him.

Then, just like that, she'd pulled both of them to their feet, her eyes scrutinising him carefully.

"It's good to see you, Stefan," she replied earnestly. "You seem to have done well for yourself."

"Why are you here?" he spat, irritated by the revelation she'd feigned her own death.

"To see you silly," Katherine replied, poking him in the chest. "These flash-forwards were rather inconvenient. I was planning on dropping by later, but I saw myself here and I just became nostalgic for the good old days." She grinned. "Remember those days, Stefan?"

She tapped his nose playfully.

"God, I forgot how sexy you were," she breathed, running a hand along his chest.

Stefan slapped her hand away, turning away.

"You're a bitch," he snapped. "You're an evil little bitch who hasn't changed a bit. You might have Damon under your spell, but not me."

"Ouch," Katherine pouted. "That hurt. How is Damon anyway?"

"As if you care," Stefan snarled, glaring at her with all the hatred he could muster. "You didn't give a damn about either one of us. We were your playthings, your toys to do with whatever the hell you pleased."

"Initially, yes," Katherine admitted remorselessly. "But there was something about you, Stefan. You were different from any other guy I'd charmed." She gave him a mischievous grin. "I see time has made you meaner… sexier, even. I like it."

"You left us to die," he accused. "You made me the way I am!"

"Forgive me for wanting to spend eternity with you Stefan," Katherine responded, rolling her eyes. "But you were special."

"And Damon?"

"Damon… is complicated." Katherine suddenly clapped her hands. "Ooh, I missed this!"

"Missed what?" Stefan asked grumpily.

"Us," she exclaimed, lightly pummelling his chest with her fists. "You and me."

"Yeah, you know the saying about absence making the heart grow fonder?" Stefan said slowly.

Katherine beamed. "Yes…."

"It's a bunch of crap, 'cause all I'm feeling towards you right now is hatred," Stefan said bitterly. "Although I do think I owe it to tell you Damon was planning on busting you out at some point."

"Aw Damon the lovesick Salvatore," Katherine reminisced. "He was many things, Stefan. But he was never you."

He narrowed his eyes. "Why are you _really_ here, Katherine?"

"Let's see." Katherine pretended to think for a moment. "Three reasons. You, you and you."

Stefan stared at her.

"I don't have time for this," was his eventual conclusion. "I've got to meet Elena at the dance."

"Elena?" Katherine had picked up on the key word. "Ah, yes, your little girlfriend."

"You know about her?" Stefan enquired.

"News reached my ears that you had found someone else," Katherine said stiffly, her eyes looking unhappy. "I didn't think it was true. I didn't _want_ it to be true."

She rubbed Stefan's arm, ignoring his cold stare.

"I missed you," she added, still pouting.

"You didn't miss me, Katherine," Stefan scoffed. "You've always had other intentions, other motives. When you do something, there's usually an ulterior motive. I know you."

"That you do," Katherine said, smirking. "Now, I'd love you to not breathe a word of my premature arrival to your brother."

"And why should I do you any favours, Katherine?" Stefan asked stiffly.

"Because this Elena girl is human from what I gather," Katherine said, sidling up next to him. "And humans are _ever_ so fragile. So many lovely bones to break." She pressed her lips up against his ear. "Or, alternatively, I could turn her. Make her into a monster who'd rip apart her entire town, her family and friends, without even knowing what she was doing. Sound fun?"

Stefan immediately was at her throat, his fist raised in the air as if he was about to strike. In a flash, the positions were reversed again.

"Don't do anything stupid, Stefan," she warned. "I'm already pissed you found someone else, so I won't think twice about snapping her fragile neck. And that'll be on _you_ not me."

She spun on her heels, walking off into the night, turning around to give Stefan a rare genuine smile.

"It was always you, Stefan," she said earnestly. "You can believe whatever you want, but it was real. I only compelled you to love the bad parts of me as well as the good. The rest was all you."

And on that bombshell, she waltzed off into the night, leaving Stefan to stare after her, every emotion he'd been repressing suddenly tumbling over.

He sped back towards his house, searching for something he knew he shouldn't have been. Racing down into the cellar, he found exactly what he was looking for.

Damon's private stash of blood bags.

Reaching tentatively in, he located one, wondering whether he was about to break every promise he'd ever made to Lexi, every promise he'd ever made to himself and to Elena, by doing this. He put the blood bag down, deciding to walk away and just resist the urge.

_"I won't think twice about snapping her fragile neck."_

He paused by the door, turning around, the blood bag calling out to him like a siren. He felt tortured, torn by the clear choice laid before him. Closing his eyes, he tried to snap himself free so he could go back and repair his relationship with Elena but it was proving increasingly difficult.

Katherine's gloating face crossed his mind and the thoughts suddenly stopped. Within seconds, he'd crossed the room and had opened the blood bag, cramming the rim to his mouth to allow the blood to gush down his throat.

And he knew the moment he'd allowed himself to fall off the wagon again, there was no going back.

* * *

><p>After the rigorous dancing, Elena had left Damon dancing with some of the girls in her English Lit class, deciding she needed some air. She was monumentally disappointed Stefan hadn't shown, but the night wasn't over yet. He still had time to make an appearance.<p>

Stepping outside, she wandered onto the lawn and inhaled the night air, pausing to gaze at the stars in the sky.

Despite the fact she knew being in Damon's company was a dangerous thing to do, she felt like she was building a friendship with him. He was being good to the point where she had to wonder whether there was an ulterior motive to what he was doing.

Bonnie and Caroline were in the crowd, somewhere. They'd forgotten about getting her a drink, if you believed Caroline's lewd version about a random hot guy she'd never seen before chatting Bonnie up, and had quickly become distracted with socialising, as girls generally did.

"Care for a drink?" someone murmured in her ear.

She turned around, mainly to observe the stranger who was offering her drinks and politely decline him on the grounds that she already had a boyfriend – admittedly an absent one – when she felt a sharp breeze from behind her – as if someone was moving fast – and a hand slapped itself across her mouth, essentially gagging her.

And as she blinked to regain some perspective before fighting back, she suddenly found herself away from the Lockwood estate, looking up into the hungry eyes of the man who'd tried to attack her outside her own house.

She gasped and raised her fist, but he'd grabbed it and sharply twisted it, not so it broke but so she felt enough pain to withdraw it from view.

And his cold eyes were the last thing she saw before darkness claimed her, the whites of his teeth glowing in the darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>An:** **Katherine's early arrival was something I'd always planned. I'd wanted to do a storyline which involved her arriving before Damon's attempt to break her out began. Don't worry, there is a plan. I'm not just merely making this up as I go along. The dancing scene with Damon and Elena kind of was spontaneous though, but I hoped you liked it! Like I've said before, some things I've dragged forward from the original timeline, and others will either never happen or will happen in the near future. Thank you for all the reviews! You all rock. I'm so grateful.**


	8. Leverage

Chapter 8: Leverage

….

Elena's eyes fluttered open, a strange stinging sensation running up and down the length of her body. The ceiling immediately revealed she was in a strange room, a motel judging by the colour of the walls and the faint smell of hygiene at its very worst. Stiffening, she cast her eyes around, searching for life before sitting up, her arms hugging her body as the fear took over.

She remembered the party last night. She remembered the _fight_ between her and Stefan, the combining look of anger and jealousy in Stefan's eyes, and she let out a quiet moan, scooping her knees up against her chest to try and hash some sense into the riddle that had been last night.

She remembered dancing with Damon, how easy he'd been to be around. He'd helped her forget – if only temporarily – all the drama she'd been burdened with, all the dark moments of her life she'd rather have pretended hadn't happened. The sudden role reversal between Damon and Stefan threw her off-guard, and she had to wonder whether this was because of the flash-forwards. Stefan wasn't revealing his, whereas Damon seemed to bring up his (theirs) any moment he could; even if he didn't refer to them directly, the twinkle in his eyes and the smirk on his face usually helped clue her in as to what he was thinking about.

Then she remembered her attacker, and her face darkened.

Immediately, Elena leaped off the bed and almost let out a sharp gasp as she saw her attacker lying asleep in his chair. She froze, expecting him to leap up and attack her. When nothing happened, she slowly began edging her way over to the door, holding in her breaths knowing the slightest of noises would disturb him.

When she reached the door, her trembling hand clasped itself around the handle, her eyes spotting the latch up above. With her other hand, she slowly undid the latch, freezing when she thought she'd heard her kidnapper stir. She gave it a few seconds before proceeding, her fingers slowly managing to prise open the door…

"Where do you think you're going?" a voice murmured against her ear.

Elena turned around and saw a raven haired man, who looked in his mid to late twenties, staring at her, his lips twitching into a faint smirk as he eyed her. She froze, finding movement seemed impossible to create. She could see the way he looked at her – didn't like the way he looked at her – and felt him blur closer to her, to the point where if she looked close enough, she could count his eyelashes.

The interest in his eyes was recognizable – a combination between lust and loathing. She remembered one night after a party in the Grill she'd stumbled home, after vehemently refusing lifts from designated drivers Matt and Tyler, she'd ended up going down an alley which essentially led nowhere. Before she could turn around, she'd found herself stumbling into the leering eyes of someone just as drunk as she was. That same look he'd worn seemed to be reflected in her kidnapper's now, only this time she wasn't going to be rescued by Tyler Lockwood just passing by.

"What do you want with me?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Not much. Leverage, mostly," her kidnapper responded, his voice surprisingly silky. She'd expected him to have donned a rougher tone, somehow.

"Leverage?" she questioned.

"Come back inside and we'll talk," he proposed.

"Okay…" she said, planning to do the complete opposite.

Once he'd done a half turn, Elena decided speed was her best option, and so she whipped open the door, only to run into someone else, a girl with dark, wavy hair and a scowl on her face.

"See you've got a knack of keeping prisoners in line, Noah," she chided, roughly pushing Elena inside. "Considering you were so keen on dragging her here, I thought you would've kept an eye on her a bit more."

She pushed Elena on to the bed, ignoring her struggles.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" Elena demanded, trying her best to not look afraid.

"Not much. Just you…for the moment," Anna replied, casting her a disparaging look. "I don't know if Noah here has given you the run down on how this works, but basically I'm out of options. There's a tomb, under Fell's church, and I want it opening."

"Why? What's in there?" Elena asked suspiciously.

"About a dozen or so desiccating vampires," Anna replied, locking the door as she sauntered into the room. "Amongst them is my mother. I've been looking for a damn way to get inside, and I suspect the Salvatores know how. So I'm keeping you hostage. They talk, and I don't kill you. You see how this works?"

"I don't think Damon or Stefan negotiate with people who try and threaten me," she said coldly.

Anna tilted her head to one side.

"It's interesting how Damon's name cropped up first," she commented, smirking. "Stefan not enough for you? Do you just have to have _both_ like Katherine did?"

Elena couldn't help but shudder at the name of Katherine. It was just a natural reaction after hearing the amount of times Stefan had mentioned her. It was clear there was something both striking and formidable about Katherine, and, to be honest, she was kind of sick of hearing her.

"Stefan will rip you apart," she said, in a weak attempt at trying to threaten Anna.

"Not before I rip you apart, sweetheart," Anna retorted, with a sickening smile. "And let's be clear about something – you try and run, or do anything stupid, I won't hesitate to turn every one of your friends. Or kill them. I haven't quite decided which would be the most fun."

Elena's face was torn between disgust and fear. She honestly didn't know which to feel.

"I'm off to go alert the Salvatores about the change in the status quo," Anna informed Noah. "Can I trust you not to _kill_ her?"

"Hmm… not really," Noah responded, eyeing Elena with malicious delight.

"Noah!" Anna hit his arm, looking angry. "This is a _serious_ operation. You mess it up and I swear to God, I'll rearrange a specific part of your body so it no longer functions! I'll let you decide which part that is."

Noah didn't react, but his eyes had adopted a serious look, so she knew he was taking the threat seriously.

"Fine," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "I won't harm a hair on her head."

Anna scowled, but seemed to detect complete sincerity in his expression as she soon left.

Elena folded her arms around herself, wondering how she managed to get herself in this stupid, _stupid_ situations. She hated being the damsel in distress all the time. She would've loved it if a week – no, a day – went by without any drama, when she could just concentrate on being a teenager before these years disappeared forever.

The guy presumably called Noah stared at her, which made her feel uncomfortable to say the least. She tried to avoid his stare but it was so intense she could actually _feel_ it. She drew her legs up towards her chest, resting her chin on her knees, feeling misery slowly start to gnaw away at her.

Suddenly, the fight with Stefan seemed to be inconsequential. She'd give anything to make it right with him, even if it seemed something about him just wasn't right.

And she couldn't help but wonder whether it was worth noting that Damon had been the first to be mentioned. Did it even mean anything? Sure, he'd been nicer than she could've ever predicted, but she had to remember what he'd done to _Caroline_, what he'd done to _Vicki._

It said a lot, therefore, that she would've given anything in that moment for him to come bursting through that door.

* * *

><p>Stefan had woken up to a splitting headache. Sleep wasn't exactly a requirement of his, but he'd really needed it after the night he'd had.<p>

He sat up in bed, immediately sensing a presence here that didn't belong. Even during sleep, he'd heard Damon pottering around the house before promptly leaving, and so the presence he could detect with his vampire senses immediately had him on edge. The desire for blood crept into his system, causing every muscle in his body to tense up.

"Katherine," he spat out, gritting his teeth.

She blurred into vision, flashing him a smirk.

"How did you know it was me?" she enquired, with a mock pout.

"I could detect something that didn't belong here," Stefan said sourly. "You being here was the only logical answer to the question as to who that could've been."

"Ouch," Katherine said, pretending to look hurt. "You got meaner."

"And you remain as bitchier as ever," Stefan retorted, eyeing the glass of bourbon she held out for him before reluctantly snatching it from her.

"Come on, Stefan – don't play games." She drew closer to him. "We both know how you _really_ feel about me."

"You're taking a risk here aren't you?" Stefan interrupted, ignoring everything she'd said. "What if Damon were to walk in right now? Would ruin the game for you."

"He's suitably preoccupied," Katherine drawled, her eyes lit up with an almost childish delight. "An audience with Damon Salvatore is probably on the cards in the near future, but not for a while. I've heard down the grapevine he's trying to bust me out – how sweet, and rather tragic – so I'd rather stall for time before the inevitable reunion occurs."

Stefan stared at her, undisguised loathing emerging on his face. He downed the bourbon, hoping once he'd done so, she would be long gone, but no such luck. He finished the glass and found she was still smirking at him. When he'd first encountered her, he was surprised no old feelings had crept to the surface – surprised and relieved.

He didn't really need unresolved feelings for Katherine to add to his growing list of reasons why his life was going so tragically wrong at the moment.

"Why are you here?" he asked quietly.

"I saw Elena," Katherine said, not even bothering to hide her contempt. "I honestly don't know whether to be irritated or amused. I mean, could you be more in love with me Stefan? You say you don't love me, well I say your choice of women suggests otherwise."

She stalked towards him, shortly closing the gap between them.

"You're tense," she noted, noticing how tight the muscles around his face seemed to be.

"No… really?" Stefan said sarcastically. "Listen, Katherine, if you're here in Mystic Falls, it's for a reason. You've always had an ulterior motive, so let's hear it."

She ran her fingers up his chest, smirking when he slapped her hand away.

"I came back for you," she said simply. "Lying might be one of my many _wonderful_ habits, but I assure you, the one thing that was never a lie was my love for you. It was all real."

Stefan felt the urge to drive a stake into her heart. But visualising himself actually driving it into her actually made him feel sick. Despite what she was, despite the fact she'd threatened the love of his life, something inside him just couldn't end her. A small part of him wanted to buy the fact her love for him had been completely real and just surrender to it.

Luckily, that small part could be easily drowned out – with blood. Blood he was going to acquire the moment Katherine left his sight.

"I don't believe you," he said coldly.

"I know," Katherine said – was that a hint of sadness to her tone? – folding her arms. "But you want to believe it. It's all over your face, Stefan."

He shook his head numbly, refusing to let her get to him.

"What made you come here _now?_ " he demanded, still determined to get answers out of her.

"The flash-forwards. Did you hear about the world blacking out?" Katherine tutted. "It was _so_ inconvenient. There I was, about to snack on this gorgeous man who was _totally_ besotted with me – reminded me of Damon, actually – and then I felt myself collapse."

"What did you see?" he enquired, more for curiosity's sake than anything else.

For the first time, he saw Katherine falter. An answer rose on her tongue, before she promptly bit it back down.

"Doesn't matter," she replied smoothly. "I will, however, state for the official record I was here, in the humble town that is Mystic Falls. I hadn't any plans to return for a while, so you can really blame this global blackout for my swift return."

She could see he'd swallowed her story, which was good. It meant she didn't have to share what she'd actually seen, which would definitely ruin her reputation – more like shred it into tatters – not to mention would make him pity her, and pity was the one emotion she loathed above anything else.

_She was walking in the woods, her hair blowing carelessly in the wind. For once, her thoughts were sombre, and the urge to cause chaos had subsided. She walked slowly, her feet almost dragging along the ground. _

_Her face flashed with various emotions – hurt, upset, anger, frustration – the dominating one being one of combined sombreness and devastation. _

_She soon reached the spot she'd been heading, and, hesitantly, began to kneel down, not giving a damn that her knees were getting dirty. In the grand scheme of things, it seemed inconsequential, irrelevant. _

_"You know sometimes I hate you," was her opening thought. "You've left me with this damn mess – goddamn it, I don't do cleaning up messes! – and I'm supposed to what? Fix it?"_

_The wind picked up – and for once she actually felt the cold. She tugged her shawl closer around her body, wondering what it was about this one man that had made her almost human again. _

_"I really did love you, Stefan," she spoke, wishing she wasn't speaking to a damn cross under a tree, wishing he wasn't so crudely buried here of all places. "If I'm sorry for one thing, it's for not proving it to you."_

_And, just like all those years ago, she hovered over his body (this time buried where she couldn't reach), her lips twitching with mingled hurt and irritation that she couldn't promise him they'd be together._

_Their future had been erased. And though she'd always prided herself on not letting love get in the way, she couldn't help but think when it came to Stefan, she would've happily let love get in the way over and over. _

She shuddered, unwilling to dwell on a future without Stefan.

She'd rather him be alive and hating her, than dead with no possibility of ever changing his mind.

And that little fact she would keep stored to herself. Some emotions were just better off not being tapped into.

* * *

><p>Damon scoured the streets, not really sure why there was this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something was wrong – something other than the global devastation of the blackouts, that was.<p>

"Hey, Damon," someone called, which immediately had his suspicion meter on the rise – no one ever called his name in that chirpy a tone.

"Jenna," he greeted, realizing the identity of the caller.

"Listen, Elena never came home last night," Jenna explained. "I've tried her cell, but she's not answering. I was just wondering whether she ended up crashing at Stefan's."

Damon frowned, remembering he'd seen Elena at the party but not Stefan. The nagging sensation in his mind grew stronger. Where'd Stefan been then? Why had he left a somewhat despondent Elena alone at a party? These questions and more started to fill up his mind – and he _hated_ unanswered questions.

"I assume she did," he eventually said, remembering Jenna required an answer. "I saw her there one moment, and the next she was gone. Lovebirds, eh?"

"Ooh she is so in trouble," Jenna said, looking annoyed. "She could've at least asked me. I would've been cool with it. We were all young once, right?"

Damon was amused by Jenna's rant. Out of all the humans he'd had the misfortune to come across – Elena not included only because of her affiliation with Stefan (and, thanks to the blackout, him too) – she was perhaps his favourite. She seemed blunt, honest, which he liked in a person. It certainly was a refreshing step up from all the usual teenage drama he seemed to drown in on a daily basis.

"Well, if you see her, tell her to come home right away," Jenna added, giving Damon a grateful smile.

"Absolutely," Damon agreed, giving her a parting wave as he headed over towards the bench smack bang in the middle of town to deliberate.

He felt a breeze next to him, indicating someone had sat down next to him. Putting on his best charming face, he turned to gaze at someone who definitely could be described as a blast from the past.

"I know you," he said slowly, narrowing his eyes at the dark haired girl who'd now accompanied him. "You're Katherine's friend Pearl's daughter. Anna, isn't it?"

"That's right," Anna replied cockily, eyeing him up. "I've been back since the comet, so I'm well up to speed on what's going on. A little bird told me you're after the exact same thing as I am."

"I doubt it. You hardly strike me as the suicidal type," Damon sniped, irritated by this unexpected visitor.

"Ha, ha," Anna replied, bored. "Listen – cut the crap. I know you're after Katherine."

"And what little bird told you that?" Damon asked sarcastically. "A pigeon?"

"I've been watching you for a long time, Damon. Give me some credit to put two and two together…"

"And come up with ten," Damon interrupted nastily.

Anna rolled her eyes.

"You put on a good show, Damon," she responded. "But your act's wearing thin. It was blatantly obvious how crazy about her you were. And I'm guessing the reason you came back after all these years was because of the comet. You thought if you got the crystal, and a witch, you could get her back. Something tells me _that_ well thought through plan didn't end up succeeding."

"I don't have time for this," Damon announced, rising to his feet, beginning to walk off.

"I hear your brother's found the next best thing to Katherine," Anna called, traces of spite in her voice. "Katherine's doppelganger."

Damon froze, turning around very slowly, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"What do you know about Elena?" he asked, the pieces starting to form into images inside his mind.

"Not much. Just the basics," Anna replied casually. "She's human, ergo she's _fragile_, easy to kill. And I also know she's not where she should be."

Closing his eyes, Damon wished in this instance he wasn't so damn intelligent, that those words, without revealing much, could spell so much trouble for him. He wasn't going to pretend (at least to himself) that a part of him didn't care for Elena, that what they'd been doing didn't mean something, but at that exact moment it was hard to determine whether he was more pissed off about Anna having got the better of him, or the fact she seemed to be playing God with Elena's life.

"And what would you, the lowest of the low, know about where she should and shouldn't be?" he snarled, walking towards her, his glance murderous.

"At last we seem to be cutting the crap. " Anna nodded approvingly. "Alright, Salvatore, here's how it's going to go down. My mother's in that tomb, along with your precious Katherine. I know there's another way of getting inside, another spell of some sort. Your father knew it, and that pompous fool wrote down everything in his life, so something tells me you'll find the answer in his journal." She narrowed her eyes meaningfully. "You bring that to me, and maybe I won't snap the girl's neck."

"Pray tell, why are you delivering this sentimental speech to me?" Damon drawled. "Stefan's the one who should be sent this message, not me. I don't give a damn what happens to her."

"Really?" Anna cocked an eyebrow, looking entirely unconvinced. "Because something tells me she's relying on _you_ to come save her, and not Stefan."

A part of Damon desperately wanted to believe that was true. Then again, that part of himself was the one he tried to drown out on a daily basis, lest his reputation for being a heartthrob slash cold blooded killer be shredded into tatters.

"I take it you're not interested in helping then?" Anna pressed, looking mock despondent. "Oh, well. Guess I have no choice but to kill her…"

She rose to leave, and it took all of a second for Damon to decide what he had to do.

"My father did have a journal. But I don't know where it is," he said, rubbing his forehead out of irritation. "But I'll find it."

"Good." Anna grinned. "I'd preferably like it by the end of the day, so be a dear and start searching." She waved as she walked off. "Catch ya later."

And Damon was left with both a sense of loathing that she'd managed to get in and under his skin, and a growing sense of fear.

How, with all that had been going on in Mystic Falls, was he supposed to find a _journal?_ His father had always been very private, never revealing anything more than the basic necessary details. He was glad for it, don't get him wrong – he'd always loathed his father, and the reasons for that went beyond what he'd done to Katherine – but at this moment of time, it all seemed rather inconvenient.

Damon let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair.

He had a feeling he was going to have to recruit Stefan for this arduous task – assuming of course he could find his broody sibling. He'd made himself AWOL the past few days.

And then another feeling decided to make its presence known inside the pit of Damon's stomach, a feeling which was intimately connected with his brother (though he'd spent years convincing himself he couldn't feel that particular emotion).

_Worry._

* * *

><p>With her thoughts swirling around Elena, Jenna barely noticed where she was walking. She drifted into someone, immediately squawking an apology until she realized who it was.<p>

"Alaric," she greeted, her cheeks heated with a blush.

"Jenna," Alaric returned the greeting, a boyish smile curling his lips. "We must stop running into each other like this."

Jenna ducked her head, an uncharacteristic giggle escaping her lips. There was something about this guy which brought out a completely different side to her. She felt young and free around him, which made her flash-forward seem even more laughable.

"What are you doing out?" she asked, unable to stop smiling. "Aren't you at home, having a secret drink?"

He laughed at the reminder of their inside joke.

"Aren't you?" he returned.

"Touché," she remarked, nodding her head with approval. "I'm trying to get hold of Elena, but she's proving difficult to get hold of. Have you seen her?"

"No, sorry," Alaric replied, looking concerned. "Do you think she's in trouble or something?"

"No. I think she must be with Stefan," Jenna explained. "But I wish she'd at least called to tell me the situation. I'm hardly going to judge. I mean, when I was her age I was a right tearaway. I used to hang out with completely the wrong crowd, and I did a few things I wasn't proud of…" She stopped, remembering her company. "And let's cut the auto-biography of Jenna Somers short, shall we?"

Alaric laughed again, and she found she liked his laugh. And she was rapidly figuring out there was a lot she liked about him, and it almost scared her, because the last guy she'd liked, the last guy she'd given her heart to, had royally screwed her over – in all the ways a guy could screw a girl over. The thought of letting herself open up to someone else scared her – a lot – but there was just something so warm, so _likable_ about the guy. He was charming, with seemingly no pretentious walls guarding an equally pretentious heart. So far, score one to Alaric Saltzman…

"Listen, I wanted to thank you for dinner the other night," Alaric spoke, sounding genuinely grateful. "Elena and Jeremy are lovely kids. You've done a hell of a job raising them."

"Thanks, but most of the credit does go to their parents," Jenna felt the need to add, feeling the compliment – whilst she could appreciate it – wasn't a deserved one.

"Naturally," Alaric replied, nodding solemnly, not missing the passing look of sadness in her eyes. "Anyway, I wanted to see if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight? My treat?"

She squinted. "Like a date?"

He shrugged. "Call it a way to get to know each other better."

"So a date," she clarified, a teasing smile on her lips. "I'd love to."

He looked relieved.

"Okay," he agreed. "A date it is then."

They shared a shy smile, both knowing the attraction was there but holding back for completely separate reasons. And, for reasons unknown, Jenna felt herself step closer to him, gazing up at him before planting a firm kiss on his lips.

There really was something so irresistible about a man left completely speechless.

Equally, there was something so irresistible about a man who didn't let a kiss go unanswered.

* * *

><p>It was with a certain degree of reluctance that Damon entered the house with the purpose of seeking Stefan out. He had to be brooding here somewhere.<p>

He froze, hearing a quiet slurping sound from somewhere. His keen senses could also detect some blood. Intrigued, Damon swept forwards, finding his senses seemed to be taking him in the direction of the cellar.

As he quietly descended the stairs, he could see the silhouette of a hunched figure and his mind began to whir at all the different scenarios he could be walking into. What if it was a stray vampire? What if it was Anna lurking around, making sure he was actually keeping his side of the bargain? He had to wonder why he and Stefan had never taken measures to ensure this house's security from stray vampires and the like, until he remembered he'd killed Zach, which had effectively ended any shred of security the house had ever had.

Keeping to the shadows, Damon crept behind the door to the room where his blood supply was kept (the one he'd accumulated to avoid suspicion) and what he saw made his eyes bulge with surprise, and not the pleasant kind either.

Stefan was hunching over a blood bag, his lips hungrily attacking the bag in an effort to drain it dry, the occasional frustrated growl leaving his lips. About a million different reactions occurred inside the sanctity of Damon's mind, ranging from him coming up with some sort of vindicated response, to him kicking the ass of his stupid, _stupid_ brother, both of which seemed like fantastic ideas.

Walking out of his hiding spot, Damon decided the logical thing to do right now was to make his presence known. Sure, this would probably kick Stefan down the path of shame, but he didn't really care about that. He was currently pondering why he felt so _angry_, rather than smug. Surely this is what he wanted Stefan to do, to embrace his nature? Now, however, he just felt irritated – mostly because it was a _wrong time,_ _wrong place_ sort of moment.

"Well, well, well," he said, allowing the faintest traces of smugness to enter his tone. He had earned snarky after all. "Look what we have here."

Stefan turned his head, and what Damon saw struck him more as a pitiful sight than anything else. His brother's eyes were filled with remorse, sorrow, even whilst continuing to drain the blood bag dry.

Damon shook his head, trying to work out whether what he was feeling was pity towards his brother and his lack of control, anger that this was the way Stefan had chosen to deal with everything (in the process pushing Elena away), frustration that everything in his world seemed to be going wrong at exactly the same time, or an odd combination of all three.


	9. The One That Got Away

Chapter 9: The One That Got Away

* * *

><p>It was a set of circumstances Damon had, personally, never seen coming – and that wasn't a joke, even though the irony of it (given the events of the past few weeks) slammed into him again and again. He'd never imagined for one moment he'd ever play the role of stern big brother again, not after everything he and Stefan had been through. It wasn't in him to care about Stefan – not anymore.<p>

Yet here he was, pacing around the room, searching for the words to fling at Stefan. But he was rendered speechless, the usual taunts dying the moment they landed on his tongue. Now wasn't the time to be making perverse jokes, or taunting Stefan for what (he'd felt) had been an inevitable event to occur. He'd been waiting to break his brother for a long time, and now he was broken, there just was no satisfaction to be gained.

"When?" was his first question.

Stefan raised his head, tilting it to one side, his gaze questioning.

"When what?" he asked quietly.

"When did the Civil War start?" Damon asked, unable to hide back a wave of sarcasm. "What do you _think_ I mean when I ask you _when?_"

"Oh. Literally a couple of days ago at most," Stefan responded, the hunger practically exploding in his eyes.

Damon pinched the ridge of his nose. Alright, so that wasn't really an unreasonable answer to get, but it still was not the answer he wanted to hear. Ideally, this scenario would've happened a _completely_ different way, and there would've been a lot more gloating on his part.

"So what does Elena think of this new life decision?" he asked casually, deciding to test the waters on the subject of Elena, see if he couldn't drag this out as long as possible in order to really shame his brother into seeing just how screwed up he'd made everything.

"I haven't told her," Stefan confessed.

"Figures," Damon snorted. "You two are hardly the poster couple for honesty. I assume there's a reason for this sudden blood bend you seem to have taken off on? Did you and Elena have a fight?" He smirked. "Is she on the market?"

"Screw you," Stefan snapped, his fists clenched by his side. "Is that all you can think about? How you can screw over your brother because he screwed you over once upon a time? Hate to say it, _brother_, but you need to let the past go. Move the hell on."

Damon let out an incredulous laugh, unable to believe he was hearing this. Part of him was ready to stake his brother, so angry was he with the way he was being talked to. Stefan had suddenly taken his self-righteous act to a whole new level, and it wasn't going down well at all.

"You know what, I was going to save this piece of juicy gossip until the end," he said, reaching for the bottle of bourbon. "But since you're being a dick, I'll spill – Elena's been kidnapped. By that little minx Anna, Pearl's daughter."

Stefan's eyes widened. Finally, Damon had his undivided attention.

"What?" he yelled, rising to his feet. "Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"Hm, I dunno. Guess I was too busy focusing on the fact that you were drinking _human blood_ to divulge that piece of info straight away," Damon retorted, loathing creeping onto his features. "If you pulled your head from your ass for one moment, you'd be able to notice a lot more. Like, for instance – just pulling this out of thin air here - that your girlfriend, the love of your _life_, is missing."

Stefan looked furious for one moment, and Damon wondered if a brawl was going to break out. He was certainly prepared for one, but he was slightly uncomfortable about the idea of incapacitating his one and only ally.

"God," Stefan moaned, suddenly looking remorseful. "I've been such a – "

"Prat? Monumental idiot?" Damon helpfully suggested. "I've got a ton of these, so let me know when you want me to stop – "

"Stop." Stefan glared at him. "What do we do?"

"I was hoping you, Romeo, would be able to lead this charge," Damon said wryly. "After all, this is _your_ girlfriend, so technically this is _your_ problem, not mine."

"Who's being the idiot now?" Stefan returned. "You care for her. You pretend you don't, but you do. I see through you."

Damon scoffed, although he was pretty damn sure it was a half-hearted gesture on his part. He could lie to a lot of people, even to himself, but this was one lie he was finding hard to keep up.

"It just kills me inside that she saw the two of you together in her flash-forward," Stefan continued, anguish evident in his voice. "I'm fighting to keep her, Damon. I'm doing it in the wrong way, I know, but I'm trying to keep myself from falling apart just so I can fight for our future, and doing two things at once it just – I can't balance them both."

"Well, you're going to have to try," Damon snapped, his eyes flashing with irritation. "I don't have time to babysit you _and_ keep this town from knowing what's really going on. You know all this time you should've been learning how to _control_ the bloodlust, not avoiding it. Because when you do, stuff like _this_ happens."

Stefan swallowed loudly, clearly battling with his emotions, something which Damon couldn't really have cared less about. The older Salvatore brother had to think for a moment how to react to Stefan's…touching confession. A sarcastic remark came to mind, but he figured Stefan was too volatile to provoke, and they had bigger things to worry about than each other.

"So, what _do_ we do?" Stefan asked, the fear evident in his voice. "What does she even _want?_"

"Says she knows I'm trying to find a way to bust Katherine out of the tomb," Damon explained. "She wants in on the plan. Wants to find a way of busting her goddamn mother out, and according to her, the answer as to how to get into the tomb without the crystal Emily destroyed through Bonnie lies in Father's journals."

"Really?" Stefan looked thoughtful. "But he was always so private. How are we supposed to find the damn thing?"

"Well, we better start looking," Damon informed him. "We only have until the end of the day in which to retrieve it, so I suggest we split up, that way we'll cover much more ground."

Stefan frowned, something hitting him.

"Why are you helping, Damon?" he enquired. "You never help me with anything."

"Now that's hurtful. I helped get the town off our back's didn't I?"

"By killing Lexi. Which strictly speaking doesn't come under the category of helping _me_," Stefan pointed out wryly.

"Oh, I don't know, Stefan," Damon said, starting to get irritated. "Have you considered the idea maybe I want Katherine out just as badly as Anna wants her mother out? Did I not mention my diabolical plan to try and break Katherine out?"

"There's more to it. You're just going to hand over the journal to Anna, which tells me you care about Elena's safety, otherwise you wouldn't even be negotiating with her," Stefan argued, trying to ignore the guilt he was feeling at knowing more about Katherine's whereabouts than Damon.

"I said I'd give her the diary, yes," Damon responded, raising an eyebrow in Stefan's direction. "I didn't, however, mention anything about not taking a peek at it myself. The moment we find it, I'm gonna read it myself."

"How? You don't know where it is," Stefan almost yelled. "Elena is going to be dead if we don't find this damn thing."

"So?" Damon raised an eyebrow. "Truthfully, you're broodier than you've ever been when you're around her. It might be good for you to loosen up. She clearly holds you back in that department."

"If it weren't for the fact I know every word you're saying aims to piss me off," Stefan said slowly, dragging every syllable out, "and that your flash-forward shows you a future you clearly would love to have – because despite what you pretend to be, you still want to love and be loved – I'd be staking you right now."

Damon closed the gap between them, so that they were literally nose to nose.

"Do it," he growled. "Because I may be a monster, Stefan, but at least I have the balls to admit it. You cling to your humanity because you're ashamed of what you are. And this right here," he gestured to the empty blood bag on the floor, "is your way of shutting down the _moment_ things get a little bit tough."

He walked past Stefan, taking care to slam into him on the way past.

"For the record," he added at the door, "I will always choose Katherine. If it puts your brooding mind to rest, I solemnly swear I won't pursue _Elena_." Then, rather callously, he remarked, "If she even lives through the night, that is."

And he walked out, leaving a gobsmacked Stefan to stare after him.

* * *

><p>Anna, for lack of anything better to do, found herself wandering into Mystic Falls' very own library. She had this fascination with books she couldn't describe. Escaping to another world, even for just a second, was exhilarating – or at least it had been. She didn't really find the time for reading anymore, and even when she did find the time, depressingly, she ended up turning to the vampire novels, mostly to see how fiction compared to reality.<p>

She passed by the usual nerds and geeks, the hunger boiling inside of her. Luckily, she'd managed to control it so that she could pretty much switch from blood from a live human, to the blood found in blood banks without much fuss.

She was surprised, however, to see Jeremy wandering along the bookshelves, looking quite pathetic and lost. Grinning to herself, she walked up, tapping him on the shoulder, the surprised look on his face giving her a strange feeling in her stomach, a feeling multiplied as his lopsided smile came into view.

"Hey, remember me?" she enquired, tilting her head to one side.

"Vaguely," Jeremy responded, grinning. "I've hardly seen you around. Where you been?"

"Here and there," she replied vaguely. "May I ask why you're here? Forgive me for saying, but this really doesn't look like your kind of place. The emo fringe suggests parties in cemeteries, and watching horror movies, as opposed to hanging out in libraries."

"Ha, ha," Jeremy quipped, still smirking. "I'm not here through choice, believe you me. My history teacher, Mr Saltzman, said he's been doing some pre-reading up on his student's files, and noticed my bad record, and has decided to give me a chance to gain some extra credit. So I've got to do this project on local history."

"Isn't the school closed though?" Anna enquired.

"That's why this deal sucks," Jeremy explained, rolling his eyes. "I'd rather be hanging out in my room, listening to music, but Jenna's busting my ass about this. She says this is a great opportunity for me to redeem myself." He air quoted the word redeem. "Truth be told, I know she's only doing this to suck up to my history teacher, who she clearly fancies, but still…"

"It blows?" Anna guessed, smirking.

"Yep," Jeremy sighed. "I have to pick a topic in relation to local history."

"What era you thinking of studying?"

"Civil war maybe?" Jeremy shrugged. "I know Jenna once said we had a bunch of stuff to do with the civil war to do with the Gilberts in our house. I was thinking maybe doing general research here and then maybe narrowing it down once I get my hands on the stuff we have at home." He peered along the bookshelves, at the array of titles. "Apparently the school is close to being rebuilt. It was only the gym that really got affected."

"Aw, sad your mini holiday is over?" Anna mocked. "Think yourself lucky. I don't go school. I wish my life had a sense of direction."

"You don't go school?" Jeremy looked at her in awe. "What do you _do_ all day?"

She grinned. "Mostly stalking loners."

He rolled his eyes.

"Charming. The question was a serious one."

"I dunno. I guess I just hover around. I mean I do home-school myself, as sad as it sounds," she replied. "But believe it or not, life without school isn't as great as you think."

"Why?"

"It gets lonely," Anna admitted, finding she wasn't exactly lying when she'd said that. "And boring."

She watched him scour the bookshelves, the odd frustrated groan from his mouth being the only sound breaking the typical library silence. It was strange, but she could already feel herself connecting to him on a level which completely crossed the line she'd swore she'd never cross. He was her ticket to getting her mother back, she had to remind herself. Nothing more.

"Want me to help?" she enquired. "I have spent a lot of time in here, so I can show you the best books which will aid your research."

"You don't have to do that," Jeremy said awkwardly, shifting on the spot. "I can handle this."

She smiled.

"I know, but let me help," she responded. "For starters, you're looking in the wrong section. This is world war one. Hardly the civil war era."

"Damn." Jeremy squinted. "I just looked for 'war'."

An uncharacteristic laugh burst its way out of Anna's mouth. From anyone else, that comment would've sounded pathetic, idiotic even. From him, however, it was all part of the charm. To the right mind, it would even sound adorable.

"Come on," she commanded, dragging him. "To scrape a pass, you're definitely gonna need my help."

"I so do not," Jeremy protested, sighing heavily when she refused to take no for an answer.

"Yes, you do," she insisted, unable to help laughing at his expression. "Oh, don't look like _that._"

"Like what?" Jeremy asked, puzzled.

"Like you're a little kid not getting his own way," she told him matter-of-factly. "It's not an attractive look. Now, stop being a baby and follow me."

* * *

><p>Elena scooped her legs up, bored out of her mind.<p>

It wasn't really the situation that was getting to her, but rather the mindless staring of her captor. He alternated between smirking and smiling menacingly in a way which made him bear his teeth at her. He muttered the odd remark which she found completely mystifying, something about looking like Katherine, and sometimes he would wander over just to brush back her hair, and stare into her eyes, giving a soft, derisive chuckle before wandering away again.

"What?" she snapped, when his eyes crossed over to her again.

"You might want to watch your attitude," he chuckled. "You're forgetting who I am, and what I can do to you."

"If you kill me, it rather negates the point of holding me hostage doesn't it?" Elena replied snippily.

Noah chuckled – he had to admire her spirit. She encompassed so much of Katherine without realizing it, yet still seemed to manage to be completely different.

"You attacked me outside my house," she spoke, as if she'd suddenly remembered this fact.

"Yes," Noah said matter-of-factly. "Sorry for scaring you like that."

"No you're not." Elena stared at him stonily. "What is your _obsession_ with me?"

"Did those Salvatores not clue you in on Katherine?" Noah asked incredulously. "Really? Hm, kind of figures."

"I know who Katherine is," Elena snapped. "I'm not stupid."

"No, but you are naïve," Noah retorted, an unpleasant smile curling his lips. "I don't possess a pretty picture like your boyfriend does, but if you somehow end up getting out of here alive, I'd make that your first priority. See for yourself why both Salvatores are so _utterly_ entranced by you."

Elena tried to pretend there wasn't any truth in his eyes, that what he was spouting was just a lie designed to unnerve her. But the horrible thing about villainous cretins, like he was, was that they had a way of gloating about things that ended up being true.

She closed her eyes, trying to imagine what the worst thing about seeing Katherine's picture could've been. She couldn't think – her mind had gone completely numb.

She rose to her feet, annoyed beyond belief when Noah zoomed towards her despite the fact he was only a few steps away.

"I need to go to the bathroom," she told him coldly.

"Right through there," he said, pointing at the door. "You try any funny business…"

"You'll what? Kill me?" Elena mocked.

"I'll turn you," Noah promised. "Don't remember Anna saying anything about not turning you, so don't think I won't do that should you prove to be…difficult."

Elena felt herself start to shake, but she kept a brave face on. She fled into the bathroom and slammed the door, feeling herself slide to the floor, her composure shattering into millions of pieces.

She felt misery creeping down her neck, down her spine. It wasn't so much for herself, as it was about the whole damn situation. She was terrified, but mostly confused, because it seemed like there was something about Katherine she was missing, some inside joke she wasn't privy to.

Her thoughts were divided between worrying about whether Jenna was worrying over her, worrying about herself, and wondering whether Damon and Stefan were aware she was missing, and whether they were doing anything to find her. And this, in turn, led to an interesting question – who was actually putting the most effort into finding her? A few weeks ago, the answer would've been simple – Stefan – but now she wasn't so sure.

For a guy who acted like he didn't give a damn about anything but himself (and Katherine), Damon sure did show a little _too_ much interest in her – and it was going to be interesting to say the least how he would react if and when she saw him again.

* * *

><p>"What's wrong?" a voice purred, as Stefan stormed into his room, determined to <em>do<em> something – anything that didn't involve him selling his soul to the metaphorical devil.

"Go away," he grunted, ignoring Katherine like she was merely a fly on the wall. "I'm busy."

"Can I help?" she enquired, sauntering towards him. "This looks fun. "

Instantly, Stefan's hand flew to her throat pinning her to the wall. His dark eyes met hers, their breaths combining for the briefest of moments.

"This isn't a _game_, Katherine," he snarled. "I could out you right now to Damon, even the playing field a little. What d'ya say? Fancy Damon trailing around you like a lost puppy, thus ruining whatever plans you might've had?"

Katherine's childish look of delight turned to a sour look.

"Why do you have to be like this, Stefan?" she enquired, placing her hands on her hips. "We both know you won't tell because otherwise your precious _Elena_ – God, what a sickeningly sweet name – won't get to enjoy all the fun we're sure to have together."

He was pretty sure there was another meaning hidden there somewhere but, shrugging her off, he blurred over to his bookcase, scouring the books hidden there for the one book he desperately needed as his ticket in getting Elena back.

"Where is sweet Damon anyway?" Katherine quizzed him, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

"Searching for Father's journal," Stefan informed her shortly, pushing roughly past her outstretched arm as he continued to tear his room apart fruitlessly.

He _knew_ it wasn't likely to be here, but he had to at least try. Damon was trying the library in the equally as unlikely chance it had ended up in there. He sighed, wondering where on earth his father would hide his most treasured possession.

"That old thing?" Katherine shook her head. "Giuseppe was many things, but never stupid. It's not likely to be in _here_ is it?"

"I know that," Stefan snarled, glaring at her. "Thanks for the input all the same."

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned. "You look…tense."

Stefan took a book from the bookshelf and launched it at her which, naturally, she dodged neatly. He closed the gap between them in a few strides, grabbing the sides of her face, not entirely sure what he was going to do (rip her head off?). She looked up at him, her gaze intensive, and within a few seconds it had become abundantly clear what she was going to do, and he had only seconds (if that) in which to react.

Luckily, common sense kicked in and he released her, ignoring the look of disappointment in her eyes as he walked out of the room and down the corridor, aware she was still following him.

"If you were nicer to me, I could tell you where your best chance at locating that journal is," she offered helpfully.

"Not a chance," he cut across her.

"Well, then that doesn't make you the dumbest person on the planet does it?" she spat, suddenly irritated, her heels grinding into the floor, producing a horrible squeaking sound against the floorboards. "You don't think I don't know _why_ you want it? You don't think I didn't _anticipate_ that pathetic girl Anna attempting to try and find her mother. I knew at some point she'd run out of options, thus having to resort to asking for help from the only two people she knows could help." She blurred towards him, lightly jabbing his chest with her finger. "That would be you and Damon, just to clear that up…"

"You want to be staked and burned? 'Cause that's the way you're heading…"

"Fine." Katherine pinched the ridge of her nose. "I'll give you this one little titbit for free, seeing how you mean _so_ much to me…"

Stefan rolled his eyes, letting out a strained sigh in lieu of doing what he _really_ wanted to do, which was a little bit more on the violent side of things.

"You're not looking for the right book for starters," Katherine revealed. "From what I knew of Giuseppe, his journals were either burned or hidden after he died. However, there's a book of spells, known as a _Grimoire, _which belonged to Emily. I know the founding families had it at one point, and then it ended up in your father's hands."

"Why would they keep it knowing what it was, knowing who it belonged to?" Stefan enquired, his brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"Because despite the furore over witches, some founding families did have a lot of respect for Emily Bennett," Katherine replied. "When she wasn't helping _me_, well, she was playing Mother Theresa elsewhere." She rolled her eyes. "I can think of a lot better things to do with my time, but whatever…"

"Katherine!"

"I've given you something." She beamed up at him. "Now, _you_ have to give _me_ something."

"What?" Stefan groaned, expecting her demand to be something ridiculous and extravagant, or even worse, a _kiss,_ which he'd naturally refuse to do.

Katherine ran a finger up Stefan's chest, closing the gap between their bodies. She could feel the spark between them, not really surprised it was still very much alive. What did bother her was that although she _knew_ Stefan was only _pretending_ to deny this connection, the reason behind him doing so was out there, wearing _her_ face and being so monumentally _boring_ it could've drove her to tears if she could even cry anymore.

Suddenly, she leaned back, her eyes narrowing into slits.

"I want your word you're not going to do anything that'll get you killed," she said sharply, taking Stefan completely off guard.

"What?" he asked, doing a double take.

"I know you're on human blood, Stefan," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm not a fool, and I don't exactly blame you. It's in our nature, remember?" She bared her teeth in a wide grin. "But the thing about human blood is you have to be in _control_ in order to reap the benefits. _You_ aren't."

"I am," Stefan said, without much conviction.

"Sure," Katherine snorted. "Stefan, you've always been very good at lying to yourself. But not to me. I can see through you."

He was surprised to find her hand was still resting against his chest, but not as surprised by the fact he hadn't swatted it away. He was trying to hate her, he really was, but there was _something_ in her eyes which made him believe a part of her – however small – did care about him. For starters, her advice about him not doing anything that would've killed him seemed spooky considering his lack of a flash-forward seemed to suggest that he would end up doing that. And maybe it was just his imagination, but she seemed to be _genuinely_ concerned about him, although that could've been wishful thinking which, in itself, said a lot.

"Do me a favour, Katherine," he said, lowering his face towards Katherine's, seeing her eyes light up. "Don't try and pretend that you care. You've had _one hundred and forty five years_ to try and find me, and you chose to let me believe you were dead. So far, not really seeing a lot of convincing evidence that you love me."

Katherine's face fell, and her grip on his chest slackened.

"I do love you, Stefan," she said firmly, gritting her teeth. "And I will find a way to make you believe me."

She walked slowly towards the door, her face unreadable even though her grip on the wall seemed to reveal her inner emotions.

"I'd try your father's grave," she told him. "I remember him saying he'd take all his secrets there." She looked as though she was struggling for words, which was _very_ unlike Katherine. "You might think you know the truth about our relationship, Stefan, but you know nothing. To you, you might believe I compelled you to love me, compelled you to stay with me – not true. And I promised you one day I'd come back for you, and here I am, and yet it still feels like you were the one that got away."

She turned, her face hardening as though she'd revealed too much, letting her hair cascade down her back as she walked away from him, finding it too damn difficult to explain, even to herself, what it was about him that had always been different from everybody else.

All she knew was that all her reasons for returning here had been (temporarily) discarded.

Even now it was clear he was the only decision she'd made in her entire life she'd not come to regret later on.


	10. A Change In The Weather

Chapter 10: A Change In The Weather

* * *

><p>If there had been a clock in the room, she probably would've heard the ticking of it as loud as her own heart beating seemed to be.<p>

Elena was tired. She'd nearly drifted off several times, but she'd snapped out of it fairly quickly, reasonably sure nothing good could come of her closing her eyes (therefore letting her guard down). She eyed Noah, who seemed to be _reading_, incredibly enough, like he could still get up and catch her if she decided to run.

Which, of course, he could, given the fact he was a vampire and all.

She stretched lazily on the bed, flinching at the sound of her bones cracking, fed up of _everything, _the situation, the uncomfortable silence, the lack of the people she cared about… The list went on.

Why hadn't Stefan found her yet? Did he even realize she was missing? Oh, God, what about Jenna and Jeremy? They would know she was missing and would probably have called the police by now and that was the _last_ thing she wanted! She didn't want attention drawn to vampires – well, maybe Noah being staked and burned wasn't an entirely bad idea, but she knew there were others out there like him with the same end goal in mind. Anna, for one.

"Fidgeting 'cause you're bored, or because you're hungry?" Noah's sly voice enquired from behind his book.

"Neither," she snapped. "I want to go _home._"

"And I want you to shut up and be a good little prisoner," he drawled. "Can't always get what we want, Elena." He snorted. "Elena – What a weird name."

She glared at him, but decided not to rock the boat and tell him what she thought about _him._ Instead, she scooped up her legs and made a rocking motion, wondering whether it was possible to repress this amount of _anger_ and frustration and still manage to survive. It was times like these when being human felt like a weakness, not a strength, although this was just a passing thought, provoked by anger and lack of activity on her part.

There was a sudden banging on the door which had both her and Noah instantly alarmed. She watched, her heart in her mouth, as he traipsed over to the door, flinging his book to one side, and cautiously opened it, which turned out to be a fatal error on his part.

Elena gasped with surprise as whoever had been at the door launched Noah halfway across the room. Unable to see who it was, she tried to decode the blur of movement, working out whoever had managed to take Noah out had to be incredibly strong. Noah fought back, with admirable strength it had to be said, but an unexpected movement caused him to be pinned up against the wall, his entire body flailing like he was a fish out of water.

Her eyes then took in the figure in the leather jacket, his eyebrows so far up his head they almost touched his hair, and she felt this sense of _relief_ that her fears of abandonment hadn't come to fruition. It didn't matter that Stefan had let her down – although later, she knew, it would – or that those hours of utter terror had almost given her a panic attack, something she hadn't experienced in a _long_ time.

Damon was _here_, saving her – admittedly, she wasn't quite sure what his intentions here even were – and that little fact was mentally stored in her brain, as if being saved to remind herself of this moment when he would (inevitably) piss her off in the near future.

"So you're the dick behind all this?" Damon casually enquired, the loathing in his tone barely concealed.

"How did you find me?" Noah spat, immediately flying to his feet.

"You really aren't the brightest bulb in the box are you?" Damon tilted his head to one side. "It figures any new vampire in town who's unaware most of the citizens here are on vervain – therefore compelling your way into their homes – would hit the next available hotspot – a motel." He smirked. "After that, it was just a matter of using my brain – and Elena's scent," he threw her a quick smirk, " – to find you."

Noah instinctively moved towards Elena to grab her but Damon was faster. In a move no one could've predicted, he swept her out of the door, his eyes glinting menacingly in Noah's direction.

"Correct me if I'm wrong – I'm no detective after all – but judging by the fact you're cowering in the shadows like a _little girl_, I'd say you are still completely vulnerable to the sunlight." He toyed with the door, which revealed more blistering sunlight. "You're completely… vulnerable."

Noah winced as a thin stream of sunlight became wider and wide, his whole body shuffling backwards to avoid certain death. He glared up at Damon, who was wearing his usual cocky smirk, and Elena watched them both, wondering whether she should run or not, or (foolishly) try to help.

"I know how to get Katherine out of the tomb," Noah blagged, looking desperate.

"Liar," Damon immediately said. "If that were true, your companion – Anna, isn't it? – wouldn't be bothering with all this kidnapping business. She'd have opened the tomb already."

"Maybe I know something she doesn't," Noah bragged, the gesture falling flat to Damon.

"Yeah? And maybe Katherine will come waltzing back of her own accord," Damon snorted. "Listen, the fact you're still breathing should show you one thing – I want information. I want to know what Anna's angle is."

Elena frowned, wondering at the familiarity in Damon's voice as he mentioned Anna. They'd obviously crossed paths at some point, and maybe someday she'd ask about that particular story, but for now she shifted away, sensing Damon was only tormenting Noah for the hell of it now.

"She wants her mother back. What's there to know?" Noah enquired, his cocky look devolving into a look of worry, and it was clear he was beginning to realize without Anna's back up, he was doomed.

"And what happens after she gets her dear mama back?" Damon drawled. "They'll run off into the sunset, living happily ever after somewhere far from here? I doubt it. Surely she must've told you _something_ about her future plans?"

"Nope. Even if she did, I don't tend to listen. Got my eyes on other things you know?" Noah quipped, his hungry eyes reaching Elena, a fact Damon didn't miss out on.

"You know, I consider myself a bit of a dick at the best of times," Damon said slowly. "But you – Oh, you're a new breed of dick aren't you? Your arrogance and unbelievable self-confidence would be almost admirable, if it wasn't for the fact you're going to die in about, ooh, ten seconds."

And with a swift movement, he'd retrieved a stake from his pocket and had shoved it into Noah's chest, slowly moving the stake upwards until the point was literally inches away (a breath away) from his heart.

"Just so you know," Damon whispered, his lips against the ear of the now paralysed Noah, "your death was absolutely for _nothing._"

With that being said, he shoved the stake in, watching with satisfaction as the vampire gave a final grunt of pain, before falling back to the floor, his face gradually hardening and turning a greyish colour. Damon watched emotionlessly as Noah, who had been essentially a fellow vampire, succumbed to death, his head slowly turning to view a shell-shocked Elena, who other than Vicki, hadn't really seen a vampire being taken out before.

"You okay?" he called, removing the stake and walking over to her, his expression uncharacteristically concerned.

"I'm fine," she informed him, though her pale expression told him otherwise. "What are you going to do with his body?"

"Leave it here," Damon replied, glancing at the body with disdain. "Other than the fact I really don't want to waste time burying a body I really couldn't give a damn about, leaving it here sends a message to that little bitch. Nobody messes with my town but me."

Elena had to faintly smile at that, although the implications of that statement were somewhat worrying. She sank with relief against the wall, her exhaustion overtaking her need to find answers to the questions which had been raised during her brief time of captivity.

"Let's get you home," Damon said, noticing she looked dead on her feet.

"Thanks, Damon," she managed to get out, sensing out of all the thoughts running through her mind, that was the one that needed to be said.

"Don't mention it." Damon gave her a lopsided smile. "Seriously. Don't mention it – ever. I'll deny it."

She chuckled weakly, walking out the door when he started to move.

"You can be such an ass," she informed him, a yawn enveloping the statement.

"And you can be such a stubborn madam," Damon fired back. "If you wanted a dramatic rescuing, you could've just asked you know."

Elena laughed again, aware her eyes seemed to be closing as she was walking. She hadn't estimated just how tired and exhausted she actually was. The next few moments were a blur, and the next thing she was aware of was that she was in her room, tucked in between the sheets even though she didn't remember getting into Damon's car, let alone reaching her house.

It did strike her, however, that there was one part of the puzzle she had yet to determine.

Stefan – his absence stung her like an old wound, not enough to hurt, but enough for her to know it was there.

And she knew the moment she woke up, she was going to get the answers she wanted, one way or another.

* * *

><p>"Where is Elena?" Caroline complained, walking down the street with a nervous Bonnie in tow. "She's not answered any of my calls."<p>

"She's probably busy," Bonnie reasoned. "We've all had a lot to deal with since the blackouts."

"Well, yeah, but so have the rest of us," Caroline pointed out. "I just feel like sometimes that girl is in another _world._ Half the time I can't get through to her and when I do, she always sounds like she has the entire world perched on her perfect shoulders." She sighed, stopping to check her phone. "I don't mean to sound like a bitter bitch, I really don't, but I just wish she could make more time for us, you know?"

Bonnie kept quiet, knowing when Caroline was in mid-rant there was very little you could do to stop her, or change the subject. Unlike Caroline, she was aware exactly what problems could've taken Elena away from them, and judging by Stefan's absence, it had to be a _big_ problem. Since she couldn't get hold of him, however, she couldn't exactly keep up with what was going on, which frustrated her almost as much as it did Caroline. Maybe more so, given the fact Caroline had no clue what secrets lay between her best friends.

"Is that Tyler?" she asked, eager to change the subject.

"Yeah," Caroline sniffed, sounding displeased. "He's always following me, trying to be friends, you know?"

"You were once upon a time," Bonnie reminded her.

"Yeah, but that was before he ruined my sweet sixteenth with his obnoxious, stupid, silly stunts!" Caroline spat. "Look, will you go and get me a coffee or something? I'm feeling pretty aggravated."

"Really?" Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "You seem so calm-headed." She saw the flash in Caroline's eyes, and immediately backtracked. "Fine. I'll get us both a drink."

As soon as she'd received Caroline's change, she headed towards the Grille, leaving Caroline free to stare at Tyler, the bitter look immediately changing, her walk immediately changing to a skip as she headed towards him.

"What was that all about?" Tyler enquired, referring to Bonnie.

"I'd prefer not to let Bonnie in on this sudden development," Caroline informed him. "Knowing her, it would give her ideas, and I don't want to overcomplicate this when we're just…friends."

Tyler grinned.

"Always manipulating the situation, Car," he noted. "I like it."

"Thank you." Caroline beamed, pleased with the compliment. "Besides, I've moaned about you for so long, I'd never hear the end of it if Bonnie found out I'd dropped all of that baggage just like that. I think I was voted most likely to hold the longest grudge in one such poll in fifth grade."

"Impressive," Tyler replied, still grinning broadly. "Listen, why don't you come over sometime? We can hang out – away from everyone. I can probably sneak us some alcohol too. Dad never locks his cabinet cupboard except on special occasions, which, here in Mystic Falls, seems to be every other week," he added, rolling his eyes.

Caroline considered it, wondering if all this sneaking around was necessary because, if anything, it seemed to implicate romantic intentions due to the fact the action of sneaking seemed to imply the persons involved had something to hide.

"Okay," she agreed. "Sounds good. Is tomorrow night okay?"

"Sounds good," Tyler responded, his tone overenthusiastic for someone who just wanted to be friends.

Caroline made a mental note to remind him later that what they were doing here was rebuilding a lost friendship, not starting a romantic entanglement. She knew better than anyone that getting involved with a bad boy – and Tyler could safely be counted as a bad boy – was a completed unethical thing to do, and the only thing it would end in was emotional trauma.

"So come round at about five?" Tyler reasoned. "My parents won't be in. They have some sort of meeting or whatever." He shrugged, unconcerned. "Whatever. I don't know half the stuff they get up to, but I don't really care to be honest."

"Same. My mom is always working herself to death, and she always looks stressed," Caroline replied. "But whenever I ask, she shuts down, tells me it's none of my business. And she wonders why I act out." She rolled her eyes. "Parents just don't get us."

"Completely agree," Tyler replied, his eyes lighting up, an almost confused smile touching his face, as if he'd never expected to have some common ground with her.

Caroline peered through the window of the Grill, noticing Bonnie seemed to be finishing with the paying process. She turned to Tyler, giving him a final grin.

"See ya tomorrow, Tyler. Bonnie's on her way."

"Gotcha." Tyler winked. "I'll be on my way."

She watched him walk away, suddenly confused by everything. Somehow, despite the fact that even when they'd been friends they'd never really had any common ground to be able to act like friends, she'd just managed to have a civilized conversation with Tyler. Whilst that was a miracle in its own right, she couldn't help fearing it wasn't going to be a permanent change.

The blackouts might have been causing people to make a lot of decisions in their lives they wouldn't otherwise have ordinarily made, she couldn't help but reflect on the somewhat troubling question about what would happen once the D-Day – as some people had decided the dub that particular date – arrived. Would what they'd seen come true? If not, would the changes they had all made still be intact?

"You okay?" Bonnie's voice snapped her out of her zombie-like state. "You seem…contemplative."

"Contemplative? Moi?" Caroline snorted, immediately snapping back into shallow-but-confident-Caroline mode. "The only thing I'm contemplating right now is whether to buy that cute dress we saw in the window earlier."

Bonnie shook her head. "Unbelievable, Caroline. The world is still recovering from millions of people dying, and you're thinking about a _dress._"

She walked ahead, her face twisted with a grimace, leaving Caroline to stare ahead, for the first time uncertain about her next moves. Was she pushing Bonnie away by keeping her tentative, but budding, friendship with Tyler a secret?

It then struck her that the friendship between her, Bonnie and Elena wasn't exactly a fair one. How could Elena disappear, not give them so much a heads up about _anything_, and yet Bonnie could understand _that_, and not the fact that Caroline, her other _best friend_, sometimes said the wrong thing at the wrong time? How could Elena's flaws be overlooked and not hers?

Caroline's jaw set as she realized this made her even more determined to keep this new friendship with Tyler secretive.

If her friends were going to keep secrets from her, well, she'd only do the same from them.

* * *

><p>A light movement on her bed was the only thing needed to pull Elena out of her supposedly deep sleep. She flew upwards, her arms flailing out of habit, her eyes searching the room until her eyes fell upon Stefan.<p>

She immediately knew something was off about him. He was smiling, sure, but it was a strained smile. There was something in his eyes that looked almost… distant. She couldn't be too sure. All she did know was it felt like a stranger was sitting on the edge of her bed, not the love of her life.

"Damon told me he'd found you," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "I had to be sure."

"Right." Elena nodded, unable to explain even to herself why she felt on edge around him. "What were you doing when he was out rescuing me?"

"Trying to find you," Stefan replied, frowning at what she was implying. "What else would you be doing?"

"Nothing…" Elena shifted uncomfortably on the spot. "I just don't understand how Damon found me and you didn't."

"He knows this place better than me," Stefan reasoned, relaxing somewhat. "Plus he's been able to think straight. I've just been too worried about you."

"Okay…" It wasn't an adequate excuse for Elena. "But what were you _doing_ to try and find me?"

"Everything! I was trying to search for the item Anna wanted in exchange for you. I had no idea what Damon was doing, otherwise I would've helped! You know I would've done."

"See, I get that," Elena replied, averting her eyes from him. "What I don't get is why you're acting like this."

"Like what?"

"For one, you can't meet my eyes," Elena pointed out. "So I feel like _I've_ done something to merit that. And another thing, you're making excuses, Stefan. I don't need excuses. I just want to know you were doing _everything_ you could to find me."

"I was," Stefan insisted, looking upset, finally pulling his eyes up to meet hers.

Elena sighed, unable to find the energy to protests when his arms locked around her. She leaned in despite herself, feeling inexplicably upset at his visit rather than relieved, which should've been the case. Even the way Stefan's arms felt around her didn't have quite the same impact as it had before.

"I love you, Elena," Stefan murmured, pressing his lips against her hair. "I need you to know that. Whatever else has changed, that hasn't."

"See, I don't get that," Elena told him, pushing away. "Just what _has_ changed between us? I get you're frustrated about _my_ vision, but what about yours? You've not said a damn thing about what you've seen, and we're supposed to share these things, Stefan. It's not like I can get mad about whatever it is you've seen. I mean, mine sees me with _Damon._ You can't get more screwed up than that."

Stefan didn't answer, but she could see the mingled panic and fear in his eyes which made her begin to shake.

Evidently it _wasn't_ as bad as hers – it was worse.

"Please, Stefan," she implored, taking his hands in hers, scared when she felt them shaking. "Whatever it is, we can _change_ it. I just need you to open up to me. Please."

"Elena," he croaked. "I – I can't… I don't want to put _this_ on you. Not with everything else you're having to go through."

"If I can handle all of this, if I can handle what you are, I can handle your flash-forward," Elena replied confidently. "I won't judge. I won't be upset. We can get through it together."

Stefan swallowed loudly.

"I didn't have a flash-forward, Elena," he admitted, averting his eyes. "I saw nothing."

"You could've been asleep," Elena reasoned, somewhat half-heartedly because she knew he didn't really require sleep.

"If I was asleep, why wasn't I dreaming?" he questioned, his eyes pooling with this deep sadness which broke her heart. "I've been trying to dismiss it as nothing, but when the world talks about _nothing_ but their own petty little _futures…_" His hands clenched into fists. "It drives me insane, how people can possibly be upset about what their futures showed when I don't even have one!"

Elena's eyes widened at the sheer _hostility_ in his voice. She knew there was something else going on with him, something he wasn't divulging, but until he decided to confess, she knew she wasn't going to get much more out of him. She'd opened the metaphorical floodgates and now all his anger and frustration seemed to be gushing out of him.

"Stefan," she ventured bravely. "Some people saw horrible things in their futures. We can't go dismissing…"

"So? At least they _saw_ something! I saw nothing!" Stefan raged, removing himself from the bed in order to pursue in the somewhat unhealthy habit of angrily pacing around the room. "At least they can _change_ what they saw! I have no idea how I'm going to die, _when_ it's going to happen… nothing! I'm in the dark."

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Elena demanded, shifting the covers off of her so she could stand and directly glare at him. "It's not all about you! We've all had to struggle with what we did or didn't see!"

Stefan was trying to reign in his anger, she could see that, but something had tipped him over the edge, because there was a very uncharacteristic sneer twisting his lips, making him appear, as shocking as it seemed, like Damon.

"I bet Damon just _loves_ his vision. Any excuse just to ruin my life," he sneered, turning away from Elena to face the window.

"Damon hasn't been gloating about it, actually," Elena shouted, unexpectedly coming to Damon's defence. "He's done more for me than you have over the past few days!"

"If you want to be with him, be with _him!"_ Stefan roared, immediately regretting what he'd just said.

Sure enough, Elena reeled back, looking as though he'd slapped her. He might as well have done – it surely would've hurt less.

"Elena, I…" he began.

"You know what," Elena cut across him, inhaling deeply. "I thought what was going on between us was down to my paranoia. I thought I was just imagining the distance between us, but you've just proved I wasn't. Whatever is going on with you, Stefan, I don't want it affecting Jenna and Jeremy."

"I wouldn't hurt them," Stefan said, in a small voice.

"The thing is, I don't know if I can believe you," Elena said, fighting back tears. "I mean, you're clearly not yourself, and I'm worried it's going to drive you into doing something stupid. And I can't be in a relationship where I'm always the strong one. That's not what being in a relationship is all about."

"Are you – Are you breaking up with me?" Stefan asked, looking stunned.

"No." She shook her head. "But I am suggesting we take a break. I will _always_ be here for you, but until you find a way of dealing with all of this, I can't watch you destroy yourself. Don't ask me to do that." She wiped away some sneaky tears which had suddenly surfaced. "As for me and Damon – I thought you would've known me better than that to know I'd _never_ cheat on you. I'd _never_ put you in a situation where you had to watch that happen."

"Doesn't really matter anyway does it?" Stefan responded bleakly, the shock of Elena's announcement having sobered him up. "I wouldn't be able to argue would I? I'd be dead."

Elena visibly paled at how he'd labelled his future, but she didn't flinch.

"Please leave," she said calmly. "I'm not going to argue with you whilst you're being like this."

Stefan stared at her, all traces of anger and irritation filtered from his system. He'd finally seen what damage he'd done and the horror began to show on his face. With extreme reluctance, he shifted towards the window, giving Elena a parting look of dismay and sorrow before disappearing, leaving her with nothing left to do but collapse back onto her bed, allowing all the tears she couldn't spill in front of him to be released.

* * *

><p>Caroline was still fuming about Bonnie and Elena's sudden secrecy long after all the shops had shut and she was left wandering around. She could've driven back, but having had the ingenious idea to allow Bonnie to drive, she was now without a ride. She could've swallowed her pride and asked Bonnie to come and pick her up, but that wasn't really Caroline Forbes' way.<p>

So, instead, whilst walking through the woods (which she'd walked past at least three times trying to walk off her frustration) she was inwardly debating over which person to call and pick her up. Her mother was definitely out, and she'd only read her the riot act for managing to upset the person responsible for driving her home. Tyler was an option, but she knew his parents didn't particularly hold her in a favourable light, and she didn't want to make things awkward for him.

Which left Elena.

Who she'd not heard from since the party.

Caroline let out an irritated sigh and retrieved Elena's number from her phone, only for a suddenly rustle from the bushes around her to distract her. Her eyes darted about from side to side, and she suddenly realized she'd made a monumental error walking through the woods at night.

A figure sauntered forwards and, to her surprise, it was Elena. Admittedly, a curly haired, much more confident looking Elena, but she couldn't deny her relief at seeing her.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, stepping forwards. "I was just about to call you. Where have you been?"

"Here and there," was Elena's somewhat vague response.

"That's your excuse for not calling me? You were _here and there?_" Caroline sighed. "It's lame, Elena."

In a blur of movement, Elena was right in front of her, her head tilting to one side in a curious motion before her hand reached for her throat, causing Caroline to step backwards in alarm.

"Let's get one thing straight, okay? I may resemble Elena but as far as similarities go, that's it. My name is _Katherine._ I want you to remember that name. We are going to have so much fun together."

Caroline found herself being slammed up against the tree, her entire body shaking with fear.

"Let me go," she choked. "Please…"

To her horror, Katherine's face changed, the veins around her eyes popping into view with a sharp crackling sound. Her lips pulled back to reveal a set of white fangs tainted with faints traces of red she could only assume to be blood. Katherine's next actions, however, confused her entirely. Bringing her own wrist into view, Katherine bit down on the pulsating artery and shoved the now bleeding wrist up against Caroline's mouth, who naturally fought wildly to avoid having to intake such a _disgusting_ (but necessary) type of fluid.

She coughed and spluttered when Katherine had finally finished, and it seemed to hit home this _wasn't_ Elena. And this Elena lookalike wasn't human either, but some sort of… _vampire._

No. It couldn't be! No such creatures existed!

"That's right, drink up," Katherine remarked cheerfully. "I can't promise this next part won't be painful, but you're the local gossiper. I need someone to be my eyes and ears, and basically be someone I can use and abuse."

Before Caroline could ask what she even meant by that, Katherine's hands were on either side of her neck, and she was vaguely aware of a loud cracking noise before darkness swiftly took her.

Katherine, meanwhile, glanced at the broken body of the girl she'd just killed, realizing as necessary as this had been to do, it didn't mean she'd relished taking someone's life, particularly someone who in a strange way reminded her of herself. And she knew Stefan was particularly going to _hate_ this.

But she needed someone to scope out the town, to use as a go-between when she eventually did reveal herself to the world, and Caroline fit the bill. She was nosy, impulsive, and not particular sensitive, which made her the perfect candidate for such a job.

Still, given the events of the past month or so, she couldn't help but feel a little disturbed (although she only felt it for a brief moment) that she'd robbed someone with a personality calibre similar to hers of an entire future.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Apologies for the lateness in delivering this chapter. I know it is frustrating when someone doesn't deliver another chapter in a while, but I have had other things going on. Still, I know where I'm going with this now, and I have just started writing another chapter, so hopefully the next one will be up soon. Thanks for all the reviews! I know Stefan is a jerk in this chapter, but he has got a lot of baggage to sort through. I am aware in my profile I do kind of slate people who make him the antihero and here I seem to be doing the same thing, but Stefan's journey is one I do plan on exploring, so it won't be basically him drinking blood and roaring at everyone all the time. :) **


	11. Red Dawn

Chapter 11: Red Dawn

* * *

><p>One eye shot open, followed cautiously by the other. A large gasping sound broke the silence, and as the dawn broke across the sky, a figure bolted upwards, her entire body shaking from raw emotion.<p>

Caroline woke in the darkness, every little part of her on edge. As she rose to her feet, she hugged her body, a weird sensation gripping her body. The first thing she noticed was how _clear_ the darkness seemed to be, and she tentatively stepped forward, unable to think about anything else except this sudden hunger which had taken over her.

She could feel tears streaming from her eyes, but she felt rather detached from them, almost as if her body's decision to cry had been a completely separate one from her mind. As a compromise, she waded through the darkness with somewhat blurred vision. Every sound seemed magnified; even the simple sound of twigs breaking underneath her shoes seemed to cause her to wince.

"H-Hello?" she called, swearing she could hear someone.

If there was anyone there, they weren't answering. She quickened her pace, well aware there was something she was meant to be thinking about, another thought that was supposed to be a prominent one in her mind. All she could think about was how hungry she was, although it was a weird kind of hunger. It was like a combination of hunger and thirst.

"You alright, ma'am?" someone called behind her, causing her to slowly rotate around.

It was a hitchhiker of some kind, or maybe just a hiker, judging by the fact he was wearing a chequered shirt and loose brown trousers, and had a rucksack on his back. Even though it was dark, she could still make out the fact he was about in his twenties, with wavy hair and a light stubble around his chin.

"Who are you?" Caroline blurted out, unable to work out why she felt so _drawn_ to him.

"Um… I'm Darren," the man said, looking confused. "I've been hiking for just a little over three days, thought I'd see and find a place to stay to recuperate. My ankles are blistering."

"Oh…" she replied faintly, taking a few tentative steps towards him. "Do you – Do you have any food?"

"Only a bag of crisps," Darren replied, looking even more confused.

"I'm starving," Caroline confessed, rubbing her eyes.

"Are you on drugs?" Darren blurted out, examining her closely. "No offence, miss, but you don't look too good."

"I've never taken a drug in my life!" Caroline looked indignant. "How dare you imply that –" She winced at the volume of her own voice. "My head kills," she whispered, her knees buckling. "And I'm _so_ hungry. I don't get it…"

"Easy, easy…" Darren walked towards her, opening his rucksack to retrieve the crisps. "I believe you."

She grabbed the crisps, ripping open the packet before quickly devouring the contents of the bag. She waited, wondering if that had done the trick, and when she'd realized it had made no difference whatsoever, she tossed the empty packet aside, letting out a soft groan.

"It didn't help," she wailed. "I'm so confused…" She rubbed her head. "Why can't my head stop _pounding?"_

Darren looked frightened; it was clear her behaviour was disturbing him, and she couldn't blame him, because she was frightening herself. And the fact was, there was something about him that drew her in.

"Oh, God," she realized, clapping a frightened hand over her mouth. "I'm just like Vicki Donovan."

She started to pace on the spot, unable to _think_, her thought pattern so erratic it was almost unbearable. There was a strange thumping she could pick out with her ears, and everything felt so much clearer, like she was viewing the world in high definition or something. Little sounds which had been inconsequential before were suddenly the loudest sounds in her world.

"I'm going to get help," Darren eventually decided. "If you're not on drugs, this must be some kind of illness."

"Don't!" She reached out and grabbed his wrist, surprised when his face winced in pain. "It's nothing. If you get help, my mom will inevitably find out and she'll read me the riot act for taking drugs, even though I _haven't."_

Suddenly she froze, aware of something, a kind of _scent_, she'd not noticed before. Her eyes trailed Darren, the tiniest pool of red catching her eyes. As if in a daydream, she reached out, her hand shaking, and she gently lifted his hand up, tilting it so that she could see the thin, but deep, cut along the palm of his hand.

"You're bleeding," she whispered, every part of her suddenly _screaming_ at her to react to this information, even though she had no idea _how._

"Yeah." Darren shifted uncomfortably. "Cut myself brushing past a particularly nasty branch. No big deal." He frowned, noticing her hazy stare. "Look, miss, I don't know your story. Probably the same as every high school chick I've ever come across. But you're _not_ okay. Let me help. I can get help."

"I'm not okay," was Caroline's last coherent sentence before something completely monstrous claimed her.

She lifted Darren's palm and placed her lips to where the cut was, allowing the blood to spread across her lips before some sort of carnal hunger took over. Ignoring Darren's bucking movements of terror, she allowed her teeth to sink in, the blood bringing temporary relief to the blinding pain she was in. However, she quickly noticed she wasn't drawing enough, and so, in a motion which even she couldn't quite catch, she'd pinned Darren up against a tree, her hand pinned against his neck, before in one diving motion, she'd plunged her teeth into his neck, frightened tears crawling down her face as she began to drag herself away from the scene, if only in her trapped mind.

Once she'd done draining Darren dry, Caroline pushed herself away, gazing at the scene before her with a horrified expression on her face. Something within her at that moment _snapped_, and she felt a strange kind of strength surge within her.

The same strength, funnily enough, she'd felt in her vision.

* * *

><p>Damon strode across the square, his eyes peeled for any signs of unusual activity. In other words, he was waiting for a rebuke from Anna, some kind of violent tantrum perhaps, which would suggest she'd found his little present he'd left her – alright, it was the corpse of her friend, but still, the thought was there.<p>

He briefly thought about visiting Elena, but then decided against it, realizing he needed to realign his priorities. Elena, for all her virtues – and, believe him, there were many – wasn't Katherine, yet he couldn't shake this nagging feeling there was a reason it was Elena in that vision and not Katherine.

As he walked into the Grill, he was surprised to see Stefan at the bar, his shoulders hunched, a stiff drink in his grasp.

Damon couldn't help but smirk, wondering what had put Stefan in this broody mood _this_ time. He sauntered over, deciding against opening with a witty remark until the very last possible moment. He ordered his drink, occasionally giving his brother a glance.

"What's up, brother? You have your brooding and pensive shoulders on," he remarked. "Change in diet, perhaps?"

"Go away," Stefan grumbled, staring moodily into his drink.

"Ordinarily, I'd be glad to escape your dark cloud of misery," Damon jested, still smirking, "but today, I'm in dire need of a drink. See, I managed to rescue your _girl_, I don't know if you've seen her at all, and so I'm celebrating my victory."

"Shut up," Stefan muttered irritably. "I've royally screwed up with Elena. I don't need a gloating commentary from _you."_

"Well, that's a shame. I had prepared a speech for this occasion, but no matter," Damon remarked, before knocking back his drink. "I know I'm going to regret asking, but what have _you,_ Saint Stefan, done to royally screw up easily the most nauseatingly perfect relationship in the world?"

"The blood makes me bad-tempered," Stefan admitted, knocking back his own drink before promptly ordering another. "I spoke out of turn, hurt her feelings…"

"Yeah, well, as much as I _look_ like a pretty boy, I certainly don't have the intelligence of one. There has to be more to it than just hurt feelings. Come on, speak, purge, I'll pretend to be interested."

Stefan averted his eyes, his frown deepening.

"Or don't tell, that works too," Damon said, looking nonchalant. "I might be a cynic in all things destiny related, but seems to me if you don't resolve whatever issues you and Elena have, you're going to end up with a not so happy future. Incidentally," he added, as an afterthought. "I never did ask you what you saw."

"I saw nothing," Stefan said flatly, tired of lying. "Which means between now and May 20th, I'm going to be dead."

Damon stared at him, at first believing Stefan was joking before swiftly remembering his brother didn't do joking. Unable to process this information, he took a long swig of his drink, trying to come up with words to say.

"So that's the reason for the extra broodiness," he realized. "The bloodlust…" He should've realized it earlier. "So all this, this tantrum of yours, is, what, your way of living before you die, or some other philosophical crap?"

"No." Stefan slammed his glass down. "Truthfully, Damon, despite the fact I pulled myself out of that arrogant, ripper mode years ago, a part of me still refused to comprehend that we are just as vulnerable to attack as everyone else. We can still die. And that dawned on me the day of the blackout. This? This is me _freaking out._"

"Freaking out? Well, you certainly made _that_ clear," Damon drawled, secretly concerned for his brother. "I'm guessing Elena tried to reach out to you, tried to help, and you threw it back in her face? Human blood, when taken in lethal doses dear brother, can cause irrational behaviour. I did warn you."

"No, you didn't. You've spent all this time trying to convince me to go over the edge," Stefan protested vehemently. "How come now you're singing a completely different tune?"

"Oh, believe me, I'm enjoying this walk of shame down this self-destructive path, but what amazes me is that you're actually making _excuses_ for your own shortcomings. Human blood doesn't completely change your personality, you know, but it does bring out another side to you which, believe it or not, always existed."

"Gee, Damon, I genuinely believed you had some words of comfort to share," Stefan muttered, extremely sarcastic. "My bad…"

"See, right there, that attitude – I _own_ that attitude! You are not allowed to go near it with that raincloud of a personality."

Stefan gave an irritated sigh, before turning to face Damon, the blood in his system beginning to boil. He knew it was only a matter of moments – perhaps seconds – before he either stormed out or punched his brother, neither of which he particularly wanted to do.

"You know for all my faults and flaws, you're no Saint either," he remarked. "I don't even know what's worse: the fact that you seem to have little or no regard for human life, or the fact that you _do_ – otherwise you wouldn't have saved Elena – and just use your monstrous nature as a cover up."

"Don't even go there, Stefan," Damon warned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Alright, I saved your girl. _Somebody_ had to."

"That's my point though," Stefan exclaimed. "I know why _I_ had to save her – why I _should've _saved her – but why did _you?_ You claim to loathe me, yet you save my girlfriend. You claim to hate all humans, yet you saved Elena. Your motives are as conflicting as they are confusing."

Damon smiled, shaking his head, unable to believe Stefan had managed to worm inside his head like this. It was, frankly, a little disturbing.

"You can pretend all you want that you're a heartless, evil, twisted monster," Stefan continued. "But I know somewhere deep inside there's a part of you that _feels_ for her. I don't know what else to say to make you realize that. The sooner you do, the easier life will be for us all."

He finished his drink and hopped off the barstool, giving his brother a last furtive glance before walking out.

Damon rolled his eyes, wondering how even after breaking such shattering news – news which had essentially _changed_ him for the worse - Stefan could still be a self-righteous, brooding, judgemental character.

"Duly noted," he called, knowing Stefan would hear him, shaking his head as he ordered another drink, wondering why every time he'd solved a problem, another one just had to rear its ugly head.

* * *

><p>A sharp intake of breath managed to retrieve the little courage Elena could find as she approached the Boarding House. To her surprise, Jenna hadn't asked any questions about her absence, which she could only assume had been due to someone's intervention (she hoped Stefan's, but it was probably Damon's). This meant she hadn't had any stern lectures to sit through, and so escaping the house had been relatively easy. She'd given Jenna a passing excuse about going to see Stefan, and then had slipped out the door, determined to get some answers.<p>

She hadn't asked Damon the questions which were hovering around her mind, fearing his brutal honesty might just break her already fragile state of mind. Two days' worth of events had exhausted her, not to mention had confirmed the news there were other vampires in the world. She'd tried to believe Damon and Stefan were the only ones, that the fact they were what they were had been down to some horrible accident, perhaps involving a witch, but she'd always known deep down there were more out there, and that perhaps naively believing none would ever come across Mystic Falls had been a foolish thing to believe.

Her tentative walk soon became a confident stride. Neither of them were in the house; she could tell judging by the fact none of them had come out to greet her, whether in Damon's sarcastic manner, or Stefan's cautious but hopeful nature.

Reaching the door, Elena began to push on the door, giving a gentle sigh of relief that neither of them had bothered to lock it, or, even more incredulously, to shut it properly. She strode inside, not even bothering to remain silent. Though she had no proof other than the word of a maniac that there was something here she needed to see, needed to _know_, she'd had this tugging sensation for a while that there was something about Katherine (other than the fact she was a vampire) which just didn't seem to rest with her.

She almost ran up the stairs, so strong was the urge to just find the last piece of the puzzle she was so desperate to gain. She burst into Stefan's room, the very history between the walls causing her to slow, her gaze both speculative and filled with wonder. He'd called this room his constant, the one thing which never changed with him, although the possessions probably had to be updated every now and again.

Scanning the room desperately, Elena found she wasn't really sure what to look for. The diaries were something she didn't dare approach again, not just because she was terrified of what she might uncover about Stefan's past, but because she already felt guilty she'd read it once, and even then, it'd been on an impulse, a decision she'd not really thought through much to her regret.

Suddenly, her eyes caught sight of a photograph, the intricate, old-style layout being the main point of attraction for her. Wandering over, she lifted up the photo, noticing the name at the bottom of the photo - _Katherine 1864_.

And then her eyes fell on the picture itself.

In that moment, her heart became akin to that of a rock sinking below the depths of a raging ocean. With nothing to cling on to, nothing to save it, it fell out of sight, and every part of her _felt_ it when it eventually came to a crashing halt against her rib cages, forcing a sharp breath to escape her lips.

"What are you doing here?" a low and amused voice said, causing her to flinch with alarm.

Elena whirled around, noticing Damon was standing in the doorway, his arms folded, one lone eyebrow raised.

"What is _this?"_ she whispered, holding up the picture, tears of anger and betrayal pricking the corner of her eyes.

"A picture." Damon, to her relief, didn't seem to be smiling. "Of Katherine."

"What kind of _sick_ game are you two playing?" Elena demanded, a humiliated flush colouring her cheeks. "This might as well be a picture of _me_ because we could be twins."

"The resemblance is uncanny," Damon remarked calmly. "But let me assure – "

"Don't come near me," she warned, noticing he'd stepped forward. "Is that why Stefan _fell_ for me? Am I some kind of replacement for _her?"_

"No, but if you just let me get a word in – "

"Damon, damn it, this is twisted!" she yelled, pacing up and down, her face distorting with a blend of horror and fear. "How do we look alike? _How?"_

Damon watched her, vaguely amused by her rant, although he could see she was genuinely upset and hurt by this revelation.

"I get why Stefan hid this from me," Elena continued, glaring at him. "But why did _you?_ Despite everything that you _are_, the one thing I've always respected about you is that you're honest. You don't sugar coat anything. Why would you not tell me about this?"

"Because, honestly, it's not my business," Damon remarked, trying to sound indifferent (and failing). "And does it really matter if you resemble a psychopathic, fiery vampire anyway?"

"This," Elena shook the photo angrily, "is not a _resemblance._ We could be _twins._ Explain that."

"I can't. It's unusual, yes, but you're two different people," Damon told her.

"Is that what you think, or Stefan?" Elena challenged. "I know you both loved Katherine. So how do _you_ view me?"

If Damon had been a particular emotional person, he might've reacted to this direct order. It certainly perplexed him in terms of trying to formulate an answer which didn't hurt her any more than she already was.

He gave a heavy sigh.

"To risk losing my badass reputation, Stefan genuinely loves you," he told her. "Look, we both loved Katherine. Despite Stefan's assertions that our love was due to her compulsion, I genuinely believe she loved me." Sighing reluctantly, he then added, "and I'm sure she loved Stefan too – in her own way. When she was taken away from me – from us – it destroyed me. I was pissed off, ready to destroy everything and everyone that reminded me of her. And then I saw you, and I saw Stefan hanging around you, being his usual broody but charming self, and I saw red. For all his virtues, Stefan can be such a smug little brat when he wants to be, and I thought for one moment – once I'd got past the resemblance of course – he was with you to piss me off. I thought he was using you to get to me, to confirm my own personal theory that Stefan, even when he is as bad as can be, still gets everything he wants."

"What?" Elena's surprise thawed some of her anger. "You thought Stefan was -?"

"It was an insane thought," Damon admitted, shrugging. "But I've spent a hundred and forty five years _not_ being rational, so at that point, rational thinking was rather a foreign concept to me. Plus you've always known Stefan as being the calm, level-headed, boringly kind Salvatore." His smile faded. "I've seen a _completely_ different side to him, a side you wouldn't believe."

Elena shifted, looking uncomfortable, realizing Damon was implying Stefan had an even darker past than she'd imagined. She really didn't want to have _that_ conversation – not yet anyway.

"At the risk of coming across as someone who cares," Damon continued, "Stefan _never_ saw you as Katherine. The moment he realized you were two different people, he began his broody quest into winning you over."

"And you?" Elena asked quietly. "How do _you_ see me?"

Damon's face darkened. He didn't want to answer that particular question because, truthfully, he didn't _know_ the answer. Her fire and spirit certainly resembled Katherine's, although on a less ferocious level, but it had always been apparently clear she was _nothing_ like Katherine – which had both intrigued and frustrated him.

She was _perfect_ – beautiful, sexy, kind, loving – and yet he still felt this undeniable loyalty to Katherine, loyalty which seemed to make less and less sense the more time passed. He couldn't understand it. Maybe it was better not to understand it, because, really, what chance had he at winning her heart anyway? Despite all the good he'd done, he knew somehow she would always hold the bad things as a reason not to be with him, and how could he object? He didn't own her; she was perfectly free to date whoever she wanted, perfectly free to do whatever she wanted.

"I think this concludes story time," he murmured, brushing past Elena, stopping at the doorway, his body turning so that his gaze could hover on her, indecision lingering in the depths of his eyes before he promptly left.

* * *

><p>Caroline crawled on her hands and knees in the woods, still sobbing at what she'd done. Her mouth was bloodied, her eyes were wide and frightened, and yet despite all that, she felt <em>strong, <em>invincible even.

She shakily rose to her feet, trying to gain her bearings. She realized there were more important things to worry about, but she couldn't help but glance at her muddy clothes and her dirty face, wishing she was _clean._ With about as much balance as Bambi, she took a few shaky steps forward, her sobs slowly subsiding as she tried to figure out what had happened to her.

She could hear everything, from the traffic to the birds, and everything in between. All her senses had been heightened, to such extremes that even such a little sound such as the sound of herself exhaling seemed to be magnified by a thousand times. Everything looked brighter – too bright – and, shrinking away in the shadows, she found everything alarmed her. Suddenly, the world appeared bigger than it had even been before.

It was then Caroline made her most alarming discovery. As she went to step in the sunlight, her skin started to blister and scorch, causing an alarming shriek to leave her lips. In a blur of movement which took her by complete surprise, she retreated into the shadows, falling back to her knees, the violent sobs returning.

And then she realized she was no longer alone. Lifting up her head, she gazed through teary eyes at the figure staring at her, her jaw slackening with surprise, a motion which mirrored the other's.

_"Caroline?"_

* * *

><p><strong>An: Who do you think stumbled upon Caroline? Next chapter is a chapter filled with confrontations – not saying between who – so look forward for that. Thanks for the reviews! Seriously, I am really grateful! :)**


	12. Brutal Betrayals

Chapter 12: Brutal Betrayals

* * *

><p>Caroline looked up, her eyes bleary, her heart worn down by confusion and fear, surprised by the sharp tone her name had been delivered in, almost like it'd been said as some sort of rebuke.<p>

"Bonnie?" she questioned, her legs buckling as she struggled to stay on her legs. "Thank God. I've been so – "

As she reached for Bonnie, her usually kind and giving friend, her friend pulled back, a look of mingled horror and disgust on her face. Caroline didn't want to admit it, because even in times like this she depended on her pride to get her through, but she was hurt, and not kind of hurt which stung for a few moments before quickly fading afterwards. Seeing Bonnie look at her with that kind of faint loathing in her eyes was not a pleasant experience to say the _least,_ but for the life of her she couldn't work out why Bonnie was being this way.

"Caroline – " Bonnie swallowed loudly, the sound painful. "Did you – Did you _kill_ that man?"

Caroline glanced at the body behind her, her eyes brimming with new tears as the full gravity of the situation kicked in.

"Yeah, but I didn't mean to," she began to blab, close to hysteria. "Bonnie – I just _lost_ control! I didn't want to but I – I couldn't help it. He was bleeding and it just did something to me. I don't understand!"

"Car – " Bonnie blinked back frightened, angry tears. "You're a _vampire."_

"No." Caroline shook her head vehemently. "I can't be! There's no such thing!"

"Look at what you've _done!"_ Bonnie yelled, her mind overwhelmed with emotions, ranging from fury to devastation. "You've _killed_ a man. You drained him of his _blood._ How can you justify that to yourself?"

"It's not my fault!" Caroline yelled back, immediately flinching as something strange began to happen to her face.

She felt her eyes bulge, and the veins around her eyes popped into view, and suddenly fangs seemed to be pushing their way through her gums. She ran her tongue along the fangs, wincing as the pink flesh came into contact with the sharp edge of the fang, and immediately it became clear whatever she was now, she could no longer be considered human.

She raised her head, searching for support in Bonnie's eyes, but all she saw was her friend cowering away from her.

"Help me, Bonnie," she sobbed, wishing she could crawl forwards, but for some strange reason the sun caused her skin to blister and scorch. "I don't want to be this way! I'm a m-m-murderer!"

But Bonnie, whose eyes were streaming with bitter tears, seemed to have stopped listening, some sort of frightening revelation unfolding before her, and despite the fact her friend wasn't the monster here, Caroline couldn't help feeling absolutely terrified.

"This was Damon," Bonnie decided, running her tongue along her lips, an action which made her look slightly demented.

"Aren't you going to help me?" Caroline demanded, a sliver of her usual self surfacing. "I'm stuck! If I move in the sunlight, it _burns_, Bonnie!"

Bonnie turned her head slowly, her eyes wide and frightened, although there was a dark hint of anger starting to bubble and boil over.

"I can't help you, Caroline," she said, almost robotically. "But I can help bring the monster down who did this to you."

Caroline stared at Bonnie, unable to believe the change in her friend.

"Bonnie, what's - ?"

But Bonnie had stormed away before Caroline couldn't finish her sentence.

"Bonnie? BONNIE!" the frightened girl screamed, torn between feeling completely betrayed by Bonnie's lack of concern, and devastated by the fact she'd been completely abandoned, her throat still burning, the evidence of answering that burn lying just a few feet away from her.

She drew her legs up towards her chest, the sobs practically ripping themselves out of her chest. Then, weakly, despite the fact she could feel the amount of strength she actually had, she crawled backwards, noticing the sunlight seemed to be shifting closer to her.

"Bonnie," she whimpered, realizing how pathetic she actually sounded, before allowing her head to drop into her heads, sorrow rapidly evolving into hysteria, another change completely beyond her control.

* * *

><p>Jenna entered the Mystic Grill with almost breathless anticipation. Sure enough, sitting at the bar, presumably building up quite a tab, sat Alaric, his head hunched over, his shoulders sagging.<p>

"Hey," she greeted, sitting next to him. "Bit early for secret drinking isn't it?"

"Can't help it," he mumbled, giving her a grin. "I've got my first day of school tomorrow."

"The school's reopening then?" Jenna mused. "Good. As much as I love Elena and Jenna, it'll be nice not having them under my feet all the time." She looked at Alaric's expression. "You not looking forward to the job or something?"

"No, it's not that – " Alaric hesitated. "I guess in the light of everything, I'm nervous. This town was supposed to be my fresh start, and what happened? The entire world blacked out."

"Mm…" Jenna was very much aware there was some kind of mutual understanding between them, the possibility they both may just have known what their roles in each other's future was. "You know I saw myself getting a pre-natal sonogram, right?"

"Really?" Alaric replied, his tone filled with surprise, although in reality he'd gone quite cold with shock at this inexplicable corroboration of his vision with hers.

"I've never really wanted a child," Jenna confessed. "I mean, the first few days I spent with Elena and Jeremy after their parents' deaths were the toughest days of my life. I could barely get any response out of them, which only proved to me I wasn't parent material." She retrieved her drink she'd just ordered and swirled it around absent-mindedly. "But, somehow, that baby was the most important thing ever to have happened me. And even now, just thinking about it – " She suddenly laughed, looking nervous. "I'm sorry. I'm boring you."

"Not at all," Alaric told her earnestly, giving her a smile before tentatively leaning in to kiss her lips.

It was a soft, slow, tender moment, and she closed her eyes, smiling against his lips. She rested her hand against his cheek, deepening the kiss, glad in the midst of all this chaos she could have this one moment of normality. She still remembered her first kiss, which had been awkward as hell – a dare more than anything else – and secretly swearing never to kiss anybody every again, so bad an experience had it been.

"I'm sorry," Alaric said, suddenly pulling away, a deep blush protruding his cheeks. "I'm not usually so…spontaneous."

"It's not a bad thing to be," she pointed out, her eyes twinkling merrily. She dropped the smile, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

"My wife…" He struggled for words. "I still don't know what happened to her, you know. She went missing, presumably dead for all I know. And I know I should move on – I _have_ moved on – but I still miss her. I shouldn't be putting this on you, I know, but I like you, Jenna, and I feel it's only fair I tell you this."

"Then we shouldn't do this," Jenna said, biting her lip. "I've fallen for guys like you, guys with baggage who usually think they can handle it." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Usually their baggage comes back and they end up screwing it, and that's that. I can't put myself through that again."

He nodded, though it did something to her heart to see there was a trace of genuine disappointment in his eyes.

"For now, I'll settle as being your friend," he offered, his lips twisting into a soft smile which almost melted her icy disposition.

Almost – Logan Fell had scarred her in a way she would never be able to forgive him for, so she had to be thankful the scumbag had left town long before he could break what was left of her heart.

"Sure," she replied, nodding. "That sounds nice."

The lie slipped smoothly off her lips.

It sure as hell did _not_ sound nice. The biological clock forged by that _stupid_ vision had started to tick inside her mind, inside her _body_, meaning every time she ran into Ric all she kept thinking about was that yet-to-be-conceived child. And it was driving her insane, because she caught herself thinking about it even when she didn't want to think about it. Elena had nearly caught her writing baby names on a scrap piece of paper. It was getting to the point where even in the sanctity of her dreams, that child seemed to be there.

She wasn't that _woman_, the one who melted in front of baby stores, or planned out her entire life in advance. She took her life one day at a time, and usually it had worked out pretty well – minus the few scarpers and broken hearts she'd achieved along the way.

Her eyes levelled with Alaric's. His expression was even, although his gaze was speculative, as though he was trying to figure her out. In return, her stare became penetrative, her fingers itching to caress the muscle along his arms, her lips poised for a second run in with his.

And then, just like that, she found herself making an excuse – the lies were piling up at this stage – and she bolted, wondering when she'd become this vulnerable woman. She usually mocked people for being so weak and shallow, and yet she was being just that.

Her heart increased its speed, her breathing erratic, out of control.

_This isn't me. I can't be this person._

The trouble was, the moment she'd blacked out – along with the rest of the globe – and the moment that vision had dawned inside her mind, she had become that person.

How did one turn back from something like that?

* * *

><p>Damon was sampling some of his finest Bourbon when he heard someone enter. In his peripheral vision, he spotted the familiar set of luscious brown locks, and couldn't resist a smile.<p>

"Back again so soon?" he drawled. "You just can't keep away can you?"

"Not really," came Elena's quiet voice. "I wanted to stay away. But I couldn't. And Stefan wasn't around for me to talk to."

"So you came looking for me?" Damon was unable to explain to himself why he felt a moment's shudder of displeasure at what Elena had just said. "As flattered as I am to be your second choice, I have to marvel at your bravery in returning. How do you know I'm not just going to use and abuse you because you look like the woman I love?"

"Love?" Damn it. She'd picked up on the key word. "Even after all this time, even after everything she _did_ to you, you still love her?"

He turned, his eyes narrowing at Elena's posture, which just seemed to send him all the wrong messages. Usually, she folded her arms in his presence, one of the many signs which proved despite the numerous times he'd saved her, she still wasn't comfortable around him, yet she looked utterly relaxed here. Her arms lingered by her side, one of them resting against her leg, as though she was going to draw it up to rest against her hip. There was something cool in her stare too, almost unnerving, and he had to take a moment to snap himself out of the dangerous territory his mind had wandered down.

"Of course," he replied smoothly, recovering perfectly from his momentary lapse in concentration. "Are you surprised?"

"Not really." She wrung her hands together, and it seemed like she was trying _too_ hard to be…well…her.

Damon narrowed his eyes slightly, wishing he could expel his suspicions but they remained in the forefront of his mind.

"So what did you want to talk to me about, Lena?" he said, deliberately missing the E from her name, wondering if she'd notice, because he'd noticed how any teasing remark or witty nickname he offered her way had her drawing back, her eyes flashing with caution, like she had no idea how to process this information.

He wondered if she ever analysed him the way he analysed her, because as far as humans went she was completely fascinating, because she never really reacted the way he expected her too, like the time she'd slapped him after Vicki's death, even though he'd expected her to retreat with fear, after seeing the effects of his boredom reach its predictable conclusion.

"I needed to know –" she began, before he'd suddenly slammed her up against the wall, his hand gripping her throat tightly.

And then, for the first time in a _long_ time, his voice became constricted, and a single word – a name – slipped between his lips, the arrogance slipping away to reveal a vulnerable side he never really showed.

"Katherine?"

It came out as a quiver more than a question. She wasn't struggling in his grasp, and her stare seemed definitive, almost bored, like she'd played this game before and had seen the same result over and over.

In his mind, he'd envisioned their bittersweet reunion over and over again. Lips would entangle clumsily; clothes would be torn, revealing two trembling bodies, the pink flesh on display for all the world to see; preconceived facades would melt away, leaving two stained souls to entwine in the throes of a fiery passion no novel on earth could possibly begin to describe. It was supposed to be like a dream, not like one of those nightmares when you realize nothing is as you remember it.

"Miss me, Damon?"

He pushed her away, suddenly torn between kissing her and killing her. How could she _possibly_ have believed the answer to that question was anything but a resounding _hell yes._

"You're not in the tomb," he stated matter-of-factly. "You never were."

She had the sheer nerve to smirk.

"Clearly not. Somehow the desiccated look wouldn't have suited me, do you agree?"

Damon started to shake, unsure whether to put it down to the gush of emotion pumping its way around his body, or the amount of alcohol he'd consumed.

"You look good," he noted, his tone quiet, detached.

"Don't I just?" she said, twisting her lips into that half smile he'd always adored. "God, I'd forgotten how sexy you were."

She ran a hand across his chest, and unbelievably he _swallowed_ nervously, wanting to lose himself into the fantasy that maybe, just maybe, she'd come back because she loved him.

But the fact that she wasn't in the tomb proved she was a liar. She'd had time to come back and find him and she hadn't.

"Don't," he warned her, shaking her off. "Don't try and play that game with me, Katherine, unless you mean it."

"What game?" she purred, looking confused.

He shook his head, unable to fathom how she could both frustrate and dazzle him, even after all these years.

"What are you doing back here, Katherine?"

"I had to see you again," she said, tilting her head as if surprised he had to even ask. "Is that not a good enough reason?"

"It would be if I actually bought it," he spat, grimacing. "You've had time to find me, to track me down. I don't think you ever gave a damn did you?"

"Oh, but I did," she breathed, running her hands up past his neck, landing on either side of his face, her lips only a heartbeat away from hers.

"Please don't…" he breathed, desperate to fight, unable to help himself, very much aware of her lips.

And then just like that, he'd succumbed, his lips crashing down heavily on hers, his vision bursting into life. Her hands loop around his neck, and he forgot everything he'd learned, forgot everything else – everyone else – as he threw himself into this moment.

He was fully prepared to give himself completely over to her, because despite everything she'd put him through, the fact of the matter was that she was _here_. Did the why and the how really matter?

But, like everything else in his life, reality kicked in, and the dream was shattered into a million pieces he could only watch fall around him.

"You know, you're much more accommodating than Stefan was," Katherine purred approvingly.

Damon staggered back, pushing her away, his jaw slackened as the reality of what she'd just said settled into his mind. He rephrased the sentence multiple times in his mind, hoping there would be some secret, alternate meaning to what she'd just said, because despite everything he believed, everything he _felt_, he desperately didn't want to believe this of Stefan.

"Stefan knew you were here."

He didn't even have the strength to put it into the form of a question.

Katherine bobbed her head in agreement, her lips pursing as she gazed at him, but all he could hear was the throbbing of his own brain at this new stunning development.

"Naturally you came to visit him first," he said evenly, although he could hear the strain in his own voice.

"What can I say? I always did have a weakness for Stefan," she agreed, her eyes flashing with some indeterminate emotion – he liked to think of it as pity, although knowing the bitch it was probably a sense of smug vindication.

"And your real reason for being in Mystic Falls is….?" he demanded. "And please spare me the nauseating load of crap you've obviously rehearsed. After seducing me and then shattering the hopes and dreams I've carried with, oh, I don't know, a hundred and forty five years, you owe me the truth."

"Mm, don't be mad, Damon," she pouted, although the gesture had fake written all over it. "Actually, do. It's rather sexy to see you so…demanding rather than submissive. That got rather boring too quickly."

Damon looked down on her, his gaze quickly frosting over.

He'd been looking at her through rose tinted glasses obviously, because right now all he was looking at was a selfish, manipulative, psychotic bitch who had just waltzed back into his life as though the last hundred and forty five years hadn't happened. Now, it felt like the veil had been pulled back, revealing the harsh reality rather than the fantasy he'd constructed in his head.

"Damon? Elena?" a new voice entered the conversation, if that's what you could even call this unpleasant excuse for a meeting.

Damon turned his head, his eyes turning even colder at the sight of his brother standing there, looking immensely confused.

"Stefan," Katherine greeted him, her voice coy, and it became immediately apparent by Stefan's expression that he'd already put the pieces together.

"So, brother, when were you going to inform me the bitch was back?" Damon enquired, struggling to keep his anger in check.

"I was going to tell you – " Stefan began.

"Really?" Damon actually laughed, though he felt physically sick. "You know, I knew I couldn't trust you brother. Having said that, I'd always – Never mind. Thanks for confirming what I already knew."

He strode across the room, eager to leave, but he did turn to stare coldly at Katherine and Stefan, his gaze lingering on the former.

"I should thank you for coming Katherine," he said, inclining his head in her direction. "At least now I can finally stop spending my life chasing after a woman who, apparently, didn't want to be chased." The next words dripped reluctantly from his lips, tinged with hurt and betrayal, "At least, not by me anyway."

And he left the Bourbon, unable to touch it for fear even touching the stuff would cause his thoughts to spin off in an irrational direction, causing him to do something unbelievably stupid.

He had no idea where he was going to go just to avoid the pair of them – there were still words left unspoken, locked inside his chest for fear that if he unleashed them, it would show the side of him he'd been protecting all these years – but he did feel a pull, and answering the pull led him to the one house he should've avoided at all costs, because, really, he wasn't in his right mind.

But he stared up at Elena's house, his eyes absent of all emotion, and he felt himself, for the first time in a _long_ time, he felt himself crumble.

And even though he didn't have a clue what he and Elena even were to each other – the lines between friendship and enemy had always been blurry when it came to them, and he'd often crossed one extreme only to end up in the other – he knew he had to be there, because everyone else in his world just no longer made any sense to him.

* * *

><p>Caroline buried her head in her hands, aware of this great sorrow tearing chunks out of her. Remorse took over, and she wondered how long before someone would come and find her and take her <em>home.<em>

She looked at her hands, which had long since been cleaned of the blood which had resided there, but even still, she could still _feel_ it, and there was a throbbing sensation in her throat which longed to answer the call her body was sending out. But there was no away of alleviating this _thirst_, and so she had to reluctantly ponder the truth in Bonnie's words.

Was she really a _vampire?_

Twilight had romanticized it all, making the idea of becoming a vampire for the purposes of being with the one you loved forever glamorous. She'd often envisioned herself like Bella as a vampire, pale, beautiful but still gloriously superior in every way. She'd secretly held a desire to be like her, for the guy mostly rather than the idea of being a miserable, almost loathsome excuse for a teenager.

Now it had happened, there was nothing romantic about this at all. She had no eternal love, and caked in mud and the faintest traces of blood, she didn't feel beautiful at all, and she _certainly_ didn't feel glorious, trapped in the shadows like some sort of vile beast the world wants to keep secret from itself.

All of a sudden, Caroline, in the midst of everything else, became aware of something in the back of her mind, a switch of sorts. She felt a pull towards it, and a part of her knew without even realizing what it even really was, if she allowed herself to _stop feeling_, this could all be made better. She'd still be in the shadows, the sunlight constantly trying to catch up on her, the rays of scorching light dancing around her feet like an intricate scene from a ballet performance, but at least she wouldn't have to feel so miserable, so terrified, like she's the only person in the entire world.

But as her fingers – figuratively speaking of course – claw at the switch, a new voice echoed across the clearing, strong and confident, completely mismatching her own.

"Caroline?"

Caroline raised her chin, almost defiant at being interrupted from making an important change vital to her survival. When she saw who it was, however, her eyes widened fractionally, and she was able to push aside the hunger and thirst and allow the sheer surprise to take over.

"Stefan?" she said, her voice remarkably close to that of a young girl, not the voice of a headstrong, shallow cheerleader.

He was instantly beside her, checking her over with remarkably tender hands.

"Who did this to you?" he said, his voice quiet.

"E-Elena," Caroline whimpered. "O-Only she said her name was K-Katherine." "That's because it wasn't Elena," Stefan told her, his hand gently lifting up her face so he could peer into her eyes. "Did she turn you?"

"I think so." Caroline looked confused at the phrase. "Am I really a v-vampire, Stefan? I don't want to be!"

She looked for any trace of revulsion in his eyes, but there was none. He seemed to be tender, remarkably understanding, which was, if possible, more confusing than anything else she'd encountered so far.

"You are a vampire, Caroline," he said gently. "But this doesn't have to be the end. I can help you. I can show you how to survive without killing people."

Caroline dissolved into tears, his words of reassurance having the opposite effect.

"Why me?" she sobbed, leaning her head into the crook of Stefan's arm. "I'm a _good_ person. I might be selfish and insecure and neurotic…"

"…but you don't deserve this," Stefan finished for her. "I know. Let me take you back to my house, and I'll get you cleaned up."

"Are you a vampire too?" she hiccupped, realizing why he was being so understanding.

"Yes." She had to appreciate his honesty. "But if I can learn to survive without killing people, so can you."

"No one can fix me," she stated, the numbness in her voice taking them both by surprise. "I'm a monster."

"No…" Stefan was firm, his grip on the top of her hand doing nothing but reminding her of what she was, what they both are. "Caroline… The fact you're reacting like this shows you're still _human._"

"But I'm not," she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I'm not human anymore. Why should I pretend?"

He took her hand, and pressed it against his chest.

"Can you feel that?" he enquired.

"Your heart…" she breathed, momentarily stunned. "How does it - ? How can it _work?_ You're dead."

"It works because it has something to work for," he told her. "I have spent years thinking the way you're thinking now, believing if I was a monster I might as well act as one. It was a long hard road for me to be who I am now…" _And still is,_ he added to himself, feeling guilty, aware of the hypocrisy and the irony in what he was saying. "But you can get past this. I can help you, but you have to let me help you."

"I can't leave here, Stefan," she informed him hopelessly. "The sunlight… it burns…"

In the space of a few seconds, he'd swept her up into his arms.

"Good thing I know the darkest routes of the wood then isn't it?" he said, offering her a smile, despite the fact he knew he had nothing to be happy about.

Damon hated him, which wasn't exactly news in itself except now the hatred had probably intensified.

Katherine had announced her presence, which meant she was here for a reason, here to stay until her plans – whatever they were – had been fulfilled.

And, the point which hurt the most, was there was a huge question mark hovering over his and Elena's relationship, something he wasn't going to be able to resolve until he'd weaned himself off the human stuff.

In a small way, he was grateful for Caroline, who was going to end up being the person to pull him out of his funk – and that sounded horrible and insensitive no matter which way he twisted it – and send him back on the path he'd carved for himself along with Lexi all those years ago.

* * *

><p>Staring into the mirror, Elena traced her features and couldn't help wondering what Katherine was like, whether Stefan really saw <em>her<em> or his fiery ex when he looked at her. Was every meaningful glance ever exchanged a lie? Was every kiss, every touch, meant for someone else, delivered only to her because she was conveniently the same in every way apart from personality (and even that seemed to be purely guesswork)?

She scooped up her hair, tying it back into a loose ponytail, if only to try and gain as much separation as she could from the photograph. As she turned around, she saw Damon sitting on her bed, and she staggered backwards, gasping with shock and alarm.

"Damon!" she yelled, her face twisting with angry. "What are you doing here?"

"Sorry. Your doorbell was busted," he murmured, in his bleak attempt at deriving humour from an otherwise humourless situation.

Elena clapped a hand over her heart, trying to stabilize its frantic beating, before she noted how despondent Damon looked. She pursed her lips, sensing his reason for being here wasn't to exchange witty banter.

"You look dreadful."

He looked up, the merest shadow of amusement flitting across his face.

"Thanks. As long as we're exchanging insults, you're pale and weak and – "

"Damon." She held up an impatient hand. "I was trying to convey the fact that you don't look like yourself. I'm not engaging in a war of words with you."

"Shame. I was winning as well."

She hesitated before crossing the room to sit next to him, sensing whatever he wanted to say he'd say in his own time. Damon was never one to be tamed, not even by the likes of her, and she could sense a deep sadness pulsating inside him, and it was that which kept her from throwing him out of her room.

"How's Stefan?" she eventually asked. "I've not heard from him, and I just thought – "

"Stefan." Damon's lip curled in visible contempt. "Being concerned with Stefan is a popular theme for today, I must say,"

"What's happened?" she asked quietly, sensing the root of Damon's current state was down to Stefan, or something Stefan had done.

"Not sure it's my place to say," he murmured, turning his head to stare at her, his eyes scanning her up and down, and she swore she could've detected the faintest trace of contempt in his eyes.

"I'm sick of the lies," she declared irritably, pushing herself of the bed. "I just need the truth, Damon, just this once. Tell me what's happened - please."

Damon looked at her, and she could see he was seriously contemplating whether or not to tell her. But it was his call to tell her or not, and she sensed he was holding back – maybe for a reason, maybe just because it was his nature to be both reserved and malicious at one and the same time– and she let out a frustrated sigh, wishing she didn't have to be in the dark all the time.

But, just as it seemed he'd made a conscious decision to tell her, he suddenly crumpled, holding his head in between his hands, a pained groan ripping its way out of his body.

"Damon?" She was by his side at once. "What's going on?"

He looked at her, managing to choke out the word "Witches", before succumbing to the pain, his body twitching with the agony shooting through him, all the while noting the sheer concern in Elena's eyes, and that provided the tiniest grain of comfort before another wave of intense pain rocked him into oblivion.

* * *

><p><strong>An:** **Apologies for the delay in posting this up! I'm just hitting a bit of a mental block in most of my stories, but hopefully new Vampire Diaries will inspire me! Note, the Grimoire hasn't been discovered yet because Stefan and Elena didn't break into Giuseppe Salvatore's grave, but that will be discovered in the next few chapters. I've obviously changed details here and there, all the while sticking to the general canon timeline, so bear with me if you're wondering where this person is or why this event hasn't happened yet, I do have a general overview of where this is going. Please keep reviewing. I love reviews, as any good author does, and your thoughts/opinions are always interesting to read! Thanks!**


	13. Pillars of Strength

Chapter 13: Pillars of Strength

* * *

><p>Elena didn't think – she just reacted.<p>

It was instinctive, not quite a reflex,but enough of a quick reaction for it to be able to be classed as an instinctual action. As Damon fell, she lunged for her phone, resting so casually, almost mockingly, on her dressing table. Knowing there was only witch who would have the motivation to cause harm to Damon, seemingly without any reason for doing so, it would be Bonnie, although she hated thinking like that about her own best friend, especially when it seemed her thoughts were showing Damon in a far more favourable light.

She dialled frantically, and the time between her ringing and Bonnie answering seemed, to her, like an eternity. When her friend eventually picked up, however, there was something very flat, very lifeless in Bonnie's voice which frightened Elena more than she dared say in front of Damon.

_"__Elena,__"_ Bonnie stated quietly.

"Bonnie, what are you doing to Damon?" Elena demanded, her voice rising an octave with shock and, though she hated to admit it, worry.

_"__You're __there __with __him?__"_ The faintest surprise entered Bonnie's voice. "_Elena, __I __want __you __to __get __out __of __there. __It's __not __going __to __be __pretty.__"_

"Is this your doing?" Elena asked stonily. "Bonnie – whatever qualm you have with Damon, we can sort it. Violence is never the answer!"

_"__It __is __when __the __question __is __what's __the __best __way __to __hurt __someone __when __they __screw __over __your __best __friend __big __time?__"_ Bonnie snarled, and Elena shuddered at the venom in her voice, making her wonder what exactly it was she was missing out here.

"Can you at least stop what you're doing please so I can find out whether Damon does actually deserve it or not?" she pleaded.

_"__It's __not __me,__"_ Bonnie intoned flatly, but she sighed, murmuring something indistinct to someone in the background.

Instantly, Damon seemed to calm down, his moans of pain subsiding. He curled to one side, breathing heavily for one moment before racing to his feet and rubbing himself down, scowling intensely in Elena's direction... or rather, at the phone in her hand. She threw out her hand to stop him grabbing the phone off of her and yelling obscenities down the phone, which he clearly wanted to do judging by the look on his face.

_"__Elena,__" _Bonnie began, her voice breaking, and Elena realized with a shock her friend was crying. _"__I __know __you __always __like __seeing __the __good __in __people, __but __Damon's...__He's...__"_

"Spit it out, Bonnie," Elena said sharply, somehow sensing what she was about to be hear would not be good news.

_"__He __turned __Caroline, __Elena. __He __killed __her.__"_

Elena turned slowly, horror spreading across her face. Damon's face was scrunched up in surprise, but she couldn't see past her own cloud of anger and horror. Still holding her phone, she made a violent movement towards Damon, not even sure how to react without alerting Jeremy and Jenna to Damon's presence.

"I didn't – I wouldn't," Damon began, his hands spread out in a position of surrender. "You _know _me better than that."

"I thought I did," Elena said coldly, tears of betrayal filling the corners of her brown eyes. "Get out!"

"What?" Damon demanded, looking stricken.

"Get. Out," she enunciated clearly, "before I let Bonnie continue doing whatever she was doing."

She barely felt the whoosh as Damon vacated her room, but she did feel the sudden ache which had arisen inside her the moment she knew he was gone. She collapsed onto the bed, her nerves in tatters.

"Where did you find her?" she whispered to Bonnie on the phone.

_"__In __the __woods.__She__ – __She __was __in __a __horrible __way,__'Lena.__" _Bonnie sounded like she was in near hysterics. _"__I __went __and __told __my __Grams. __She __was __the __one __doing __the __spell. __I __just__ – __This __has __Damon __written __all __over __it.__"_

Elena closed her eyes.

She wanted to believe Damon was innocent, that his sudden acts of kindness and tenderness towards her were real, that they'd been born from something real. But Bonnie was right – this did have Damon's mark all over it. The only question was why. Why would he pull a stunt like this now?

If Caroline hadn't been the target, she would've believed another vampire had done it, and any suspicion towards Damon would've deflected. Considering the connection, and the fact Damon made no attempt to hide his disdain for his once-upon-a-time-girlfriend, she couldn't just chalk this down to a coincidence, as much as she wanted to.

_"__She __killed __someone, __Elena.__She's __a __monster __now.__"_

"No, she's not," Elena said, mustering up as much conviction as she could. "She's our friend, Bonnie, no matter what she is. She needs our help."

_"__Elena...__" _ Bonnie sounded hesitant, unsure. _"__Stefan's __a __good __guy,__but __he's __the __only __exception. __Vampires __are __bad, __and __the __urge __to __kill __is __a __part __of __them. __Didn't __Damon __himself __say __that __at __some __point?__"_

Elena couldn't recall a conversation like that, but then again her mind was too stressed to recall trivial conversations at this point.

"It's Caroline," she argued. "For better and for worse, we swore we'd never let anything come between us. We made a vow, Bonnie, and I know we were just kids when we made it, but that means something to me. If we can help her, if we can show how to live Stefan's way, maybe she doesn't have to be a monster."

She waited patiently for Ronnie's reaction. The silence which followed didn't sound encouraging, but then she heard a soft sigh of submission.

_"__Okay,__" _Bonnie responded, clearly trying to sound brave. _"__What __can __I __do?__"_

* * *

><p>Anna was furious.<p>

No, that was a mild way of putting. She was _fuming._

Noah had screwed up the plan. Sure, kidnapping the Gilbert girl had been part of the plan, but he'd let his irrational fascination with her completely tear apart any intelligence he might've possessed. The original plan had been to try and coerce the Salvatores into finding a way of getting into the tomb, providing of course she hadn't found it herself, and the girl had been the perfect leverage.

Now, she was left alone to do a formidable task even she wasn't sure she could handle. She'd also had the uneasy feeling someone had been watching her, someone familiar and yet dangerous at the same time, and until she shook that feeling off, every step she made from here on in was going to be laced with paranoia.

Still, she thought, as her eyes lazily wandered across the bar, to where Jeremy sat, his head lowered over what was presumably a book, things could've been worse.

She allowed a secret smile to twist her features, realizing she was doing exactly what she'd criticized Noah for in letting her mission become personal, but there was something about Jeremy that just made her feel... That just made her feel. Nobody had quite achieved that goal in a long time.

She twisted a curl around her finger as she plotted her next move. Perhaps it was best she worked alone anyway. She could balance a relationship with Jeremy with trying to bust her mother out of the tomb. It was a feasible a task.

"Hey."

Holy _crap._

The moment her gaze had wandered, Jeremy had managed to sneak up on her, wearing a lopsided grin which seemed to catch her off guard. She blinked, startled, and then mirrored his grin.

"Hey yourself," she replied, smirking. "See you've adopted my habit of appearing out of nowhere."

"Not nowhere... I caught you staring at me," Jeremy responded, his tone teasing, his eyes glittering with amusement. "There's a fee for staring you know."

"Really?" she grinned. "I'd like to see you implement that as a rule. See you was dumb enough to fall for it."

He lowered his head, his gaze suddenly shy which took her by surprise. Maybe it was the lost quality to Jeremy which drew her in. Even when he was fully engaged in the moment, there were times when his smile drooped a little, or his eyes drifted, as though he was thinking about something, someone. It fascinated her, although she was beginning to fear she was going in too deep.

"Listen," Jeremy began, scratching his head and looking inexplicably nervous. "We were in each other's visions..."

She honed her gaze in on him, inclining her head ever so subtly.

"So?" she prompted.

"I just don't want to make assumptions about what this is," he said, sounding nervous. "I don't want to push any boundaries. But I know how I felt in my vision."

Anna knew she was going to hell anyway, so she might as well enjoy the ride. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up and lightly pressed her lips against Jeremy's, partly to shut him up – she'd never understood how people could dwell on their futures so much, it was ridiculous – and partly because she was curious. She'd never done the kissing thing before, even though she was certainly old enough to have acquired numerous suitors over the years.

It was strange, the experience. It felt wrong and right at the same time. As he deepened the kiss, she felt a sense of invasion, like he was stealing away something personal of hers. At the same time, however, it was a moment of release, a way of allowing all her pent up emotions to wander free. She could feel him smiling against her lips, and the pull of that gesture meant her own lips had to mirror his.

The smile wasn't entirely feigned.

Truthfully, the kiss had been amazing, like slipping in and out of some well constructed fantasy, but her heart sank, because she knew on some level he was going to hate her when he realized what she was, what she needed him for. This felt all wrong, the way she was feeling. It was like having two emotions clashing fiercely for dominance inside her chest, and it was more uncomfortable than the blood lust if she was being brutally honest with herself.

"What was that for?" Jeremy asked, sounding starstruck, his eyebrows knitted together as though trying to fathom her reasons for kissing him.

She smirked. "Unless I've missed some kind of body language revolution, I'm pretty sure kisses are a way of telling someone you like them."

"Oh?" Jeremy matched her smirk. "Had no idea. You should've been more clear."

"Want to shoot some pool while we're here?"

"Would love to, but still got history work to do," he sighed. "Alaric's pretty cool for a teacher, but man he sure is a sucker for a lost cause. He thinks despite all the crap I've been through this year, I can actually turn my dismal grades around by giving me extra work." He shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle though."

In his own adorable way, he was trying to impress her. It worked...to an extent, although she was more impressed how someone who had such a dark connection to her past and didn't even realize it could arouse such strong feelings within her. Sure, the flash-forwards may have played a part in bringing them together, but she was sure she still would've found her way here all the same, would've found her way to him. Whether circumstances would still have allowed her to pursue whatever this was they had going on between them, she couldn't say, but she appreciated the chance to live a semi-normal life for a moment.

"Yeah, I got to take off too," she said, suddenly uncomfortable as she remembered what she was actually here for. "I'll see you later."

He leaned in, clearly hoping for another kiss, but she slid past him, wondering how she could've been stupid enough to let her heart overrule her head. Theoretically, humanity was supposed to have died along with the vampire before the transition period even began, but yet it still remained, flaring up in the most awkward of times. Any vampire who denied their humanity even existed was just kidding themselves – or they'd somehow found a way to permanently flip the switch one of the two.

Personally, now, she'd failed at both.

Time for a new plan.

* * *

><p>Caroline wasn't exactly aware of where she was, but she knew she was somewhere safe. The rays of sun were no longer burning her with an alarming intensity, and as her eyes opened, she could hear sounds which, ordinarily, wouldn't have engaged her attention. This included the ticking of a clock which, without knowing the layout of the house, she knew to be upstairs, as well as the faint sound of a tap dripping somewhere in the vicinity.<p>

She pushed her body to a sitting position, uncomfortable to learn she lay draped across someone's couch without even realizing where she even was. Then her eyes fell on Stefan, who was sitting opposite her, his eyes filled with compassion, as well as another emotion she had yet to identify.

"Stefan?" she murmured, anxiously flicking through her recollections to remember how and why her best friend's boyfriend would've been here, helping her.

"Hey, Caroline," Stefan greeted her, his mouth twisting into something close to a grimace, although it was clearly meant to be some sort of empathetic expression.

She shuffled uncomfortably on the couch, her hands clawing feebly at her throat, her own unsubtle way of enquiring about the burning at the back of her throat.

"That'll ease up in time, once you learn to curb the cravings," Stefan explained, sounding tentative, hesitant.

Caroline's voice caught in her throat.

"Cravings?" she whispered, her face twisting with vulnerability.

Stefan nodded. "You're a vampire, Caroline. I know it seems hard to understand, but it's true."

At those words, he closed his eyes, before allowing himself to reveal his true façade to her. He expected a surprised shriek as his face dissolved into its true form, but Caroline never made a sound. As his eyes met hers, all he saw was quiet resignation, as though she'd always known her fate but had only really understood it at this moment.

"Bonnie told me as much," she whispered, sounding frail.

"Bonnie?" Stefan looked surprised. "She found you?"

Caroline nodded, her bottom lip trembling.

"You should've seen her face, Stefan. She knows I'm a monster," she said, her voice teetering on the edge of hysteria.

"You are not a monster," Stefan told her, and he found helping Caroline distracted him somewhat from his own existential crisis of epic proportions. "You are still Caroline Forbes. You can still be who you want to be. This doesn't have to change you."

"But it already has," Caroline said tearfully. "Bonnie hates me. I killed a man." She shuddered with revulsion. "Stefan... I'm a monster."

"If you're a monster, then I'm a monster too," he said matter-of-factly, taking her hands in his. "I've done terrible things, Caroline, things I wish I could erase from history. I can't. Every day I have to fight a world of pain, knowing there's no way to fight what I am, what I'll always be, but I fight because I have something worth fighting for."

"What do I have worth fighting for?" Caroline's voice rose a few octaves. "My friends won't want me around, my mom can't stand having me around as it is, and I'm not _Elena_. I don't have some insanely gorgeous, kind-hearted guy who loves me. I know I look like I have it easy, what with me being the most fashionable girl in the school, but the truth is I don't. All the guys I have ever been with have found a way to break my heart, or abuse me." It wasn't hard to guess who she was referring to here. "And now on top of everything, I have this?" She started to cry. "I don't want this life, Stefan."

He didn't know whether it was because she was crying, and he had this instinctual need to help people, or because in her own small way, Caroline was fighting her nature better than he ever could, but he suddenly found he was able to push his own personal demons aside for the moment.

It seemed, like the flash-forwards, fate seemed to have a different plan in store for them all just as it seemed like they'd begun to carve a path for themselves. It was an unfair observation to make that this stage, but already Stefan had noticed something about Caroline, and it wasn't what he'd classify as a negative observation – she seemed stronger, even at her most vulnerable. For once, her dramas didn't revolve around some guy, or the way the school viewed her, but the fact that her life effectively sucked, an opinion he could share in terms of his own situation.

"Caroline," he suddenly said, remembering Elena's description of Caroline's flash-forward when it had cropped up in conversation at some point. "Remember when you told Elena about your flash-forward? What was happening in the flash-forward when you described it to her."

"I knew she'd tell you," Caroline huffed, momentarily distracted, but she continued, "I was with Tyler. I didn't really see the conversation beforehand, but I was soothing him about something. We hugged and - " She paused, contemplating her words for the moment. "It kind of meant something, like we were connected in some way."

_Huh._ She'd never really considered her flash-forward in this much detail before. All she'd really explained to people who'd asked was that she'd comforted Tyler about something, and that was it. She'd never really stopped to analyse her vision any further, not even to herself.

"And how did you feel when you were hugging him?" Stefan pressed.

"Empowered, I guess," she said, shrugging, although her eyes widen a fraction. "In fact... I remember feeling strong. I remember feeling this...this burning sensation yet I managed to keep it in check."

Stefan smiled – admittedly, it was a broken, slightly weary smile, but it was the most emotion he'd shown in a while.

"It might sound strange, Caroline, and even insensitive, but I think you were a vampire in your vision, and I think fate – destiny, call it what you will – meant for you to be like this."

"Why?" Caroline whispered, back to vulnerable again.

"Because," Stefan said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Sometimes life breaks us just to prove to us we're strong enough to survive."

"Is that what you do? Survive?"

He wished he could give a more defining answer. Truthfully, he knew what he was doing wasn't surviving – he was barely alive as it was – but he was trying. The trouble was, his efforts usually caused more trouble than he could handle at that moment, and given his history, it was easy to see why Damon's taunts about him falling off the edge at any given moment weren't exactly unfounded.

"I do my best," he said gravely. "Life's hard either way, Caroline, whether you're a vampire or not. We just have to deal with it day by day." He leaned forward. "The question is, are you strong enough to do it?"

She raised an eyebrow, retaining enough of her old personality to know when she was being psychoanalysed. If it had been anyone else, she would've delivered them the middle finger, told them where to stuff their corny over-the-top advice, but because it was Stefan, who despite having an asshole for a brother, and despite being a vampire, seemed to possess something pure and good inside him.

Having said that, it didn't exactly escape her attention that despite everything he'd said to her, he was clearly struggling with something too.

* * *

><p>Damon had escaped to the Grill to lick his wounds, which had turned out to be a completely horrible decision, for two reasons.<p>

For one, he could see Alaric, the new citizen who seemed suspiciously suspicious of him and his behaviour, and the last thing he needed or wanted was another unpleasant confrontation. Despite the fact he knew he could've snapped the guy's neck in two, he was kind of trying to keep a low profile, although Katherine's appearance in this town was making that very difficult.

The second reason lay in the fact that Bonnie and Elena had walked in, their arms interlined (always a bad sign) and had spotted him. Wearing twin glares, they marched towards him, and he felt every single bit of progress he'd established with Elena suddenly being wiped off the table. He felt like he should've cared about this more, but all he could feel was this sense of resignation, like he should've known that all good things, however brief, came to an end.

"You." Bonnie's first word was drenched with venom. "We want a word with you."

"I can see that," he replied, remarkably calm considering he was about to get his head ripped off – and he wasn't entirely sure that would remain a figurative analogy. "Mind if I just get a quick word in before you two stake me on the spot? Didn't think so... I didn't turn Caroline."

"No?" Bonnie's lip curled with disdain. "So the fact I came across her in the woods, dishevelled and covered in blood, was, what, an allergic reaction?"

Elena, who'd remained silent up until this point, studied Damon carefully. Despite his careful mask, she could see little things which told her a different story than the one Bonnie was currently painting. The slight uneven level to his eyebrows told her he was surprised, an emotion he rarely showed; the way his hand clenched and unclenched by his side told her he was frustrated, something he surely wouldn't display if he had committed the crime they were accusing him of. Damon was notorious for being able to remorselessly turn or kill women and find a way of bragging about it, even if he never actually mentioned the act itself. Plus, she noticed how uncomfortable Damon actually looked, which made the concrete facts she'd mentally recorded inside her mind look about as convincing as arguments for proving Santa existed.

"Bonnie," she began, trying to douse the fire before it became out of control. "I'm not sure..."

"Caroline's a vampire, huh?" Damon smiled unpleasantly. "Well, I can assure you I played no part in turning her."

"What proof do you have of that?" Bonnie demanded, her cheeks flushing with indignation.

"My word, and the fact that of all the people I could've turned, why oh why would it be Caroline?" Damon quipped. "Don't you think had I the desire to create an immortal companion I could've chosen someone without a personality I would gladly trade my soul into finding the antidote for?"

"You think that's funny?" Bonnie asked hotly, and Damon was pleasantly surprised at how anger had changed Bonnie from a timid girl to an almost, dare he say it,powerful ally. Providing of course she could remove this absurd idea from her skull he'd been bored, and desperate, enough to turn her annoying friend into a vampire.

"Not really," he admitted, his eyes flicking to Elena, surprised that, for once, he couldn't read her.

"Damon, did you have anything to do with Caroline?" Elena asked quietly, studying him carefully. "Be honest, and whatever you say, I'll believe you."

"Really?" His lips twisted into a bitter smirk. "This ought to be good, seeing how even when I tell the truth – which happens on occasion, just FYI – nobody believes me." He honed his gaze in on Elena, noticing she seemed to be mentally swaying on something. "Listen, princess, I'll tell you this for free – as amusing as I'd find it to give your annoying friend something else to complain about, I didn't turn her. I didn't do anything that would merit this witch hunt." He smirked. "Sorry, Judgey. No pun intended."

Elena's response took a while in coming, and he hated himself for allowing himself to get in this deep with her, but when it came, it brought a tidal wave of relief.

"I believe you."

It struck him then, as observations generally did, that her opinion mattered far more than it should've done to someone who apparently had forfeited his chance at being even the slightest bit human a long time ago. Ideally, he shouldn't have been concerned whether she believed him or not, but the fact she did, even after everything he'd done, seemed both strange and wonderful.

"What?" Bonnie's eyes bulged with surprise. "Why?"

"Because if he'd wanted to turn or kill Caroline, he wouldn't have waited until now," Elena reasoned. "That being said," she added, turning towards Damon, "you can't honestly blame us for thinking you're behind this right? Considering the way you treated Caroline when you were together?"

He opened his mouth to protest, but then shrugged, deciding despite the unfair accusation, he could entirely see why they'd presume he'd be the one slowly turning Mystic Falls into Vampire City.

"Fair enough," he said coolly, his gaze flickering from Bonnie to Elena, his eyes wary. "But now that we've cleared up this little matter..."

"Little matter?" Bonnie gaped at Damon. "Caroline is a _vampire!_ That means someone fed her blood and killed her! I get that you don't like Caroline, that you find her irritating and shallow. But aren't you at least vaguely curious to know who did actually turn her?"

"Yes and no," Damon eventually replied, his eyes still on Elena, who was watching him like a hawk, presumably waiting for him to slip up, reveal that he did indeed knew who was behind Caroline's sudden transformation.

It wasn't really hard to guess who was behind it, but did he tell or not? For once, his reasons for keeping it secret were purely selfless. The less Elena knew about her evil twin doppelganger, the better, although by that same string of logic, maybe it was better to fill her in on some aspects of the tale, because he didn't exactly want her to be unprepared.

"You know who turned her, didn't you?" Elena guessed, once again possessing the uncanny ability to pierce through to his thoughts.

"Yes and no," he replied, his voice quiet, his body tense.

"Well?" Bonnie prompted impatiently. "Who was it?"

Damon shifted uncomfortably on the spot, wondering whether it was right for the witch to be here. Sure, she was pissed off that her friend had effectively been killed – and she had every right to be – but if war was going to be declared, he'd rather have less people to worry about.

"You're not going to like this," he told Elena, with a heavy tone which told her he was about to impart another load of ridiculously bad news upon her.

She gave him an impatient look, the look which was clearly meant to say she could handle whatever it was he was about to say. He grimaced, closed his eyes, and then allowed the truth to spill from his tongue.

"It's Katherine."

* * *

><p><strong>An: I know this is a filler chapter but hey it's better than nothing right? After completing the latest Delena story to fill my head – Each Day That Is Ours, if you're interested – I realized I can't really write anymore multi-chaptered fics until I complete the ones I've already started :P Sorry for the long period between chapters. I have a lot to juggle in along with writing my fics so I appreciate you guys still following this story! :D**


	14. These Hearts That Break

Chapter 14: These Hearts That Break

* * *

><p>Damon filled Elena in on most of the story. Some, for his own reasons, he kept quiet, deciding there was only so much she could take before letting her emotions take over. He could see her now, digesting the news, her eyebrows just in line with the top of her head. One lip casually overlapped the other, a clear sign of worry, and though there were so many things he'd yet to learn about her, he could tell she was bottling up the worst of what she was feeling.<p>

"Katherine's back in town," she recalled slowly, her hands shaking by her sides.

"Correct," he confirmed.

"And she's tried to get into your head? Mess you about?"

"Manipulative bitch," he muttered, as way of confirmation.

There was a moment where Elena seemed expressionless, which he immediately became wary of, and for good reason. Once she'd processed his story, she shoved him as hard as she could, her face twisting with anger.

"Why didn't either of you _tell _me?" she demanded. "I don't like lies, Damon, you know I don't!" She began pacing up and down. "Ugh, is that why Stefan's been acting so odd lately? Aside from the all _not __having __a __vision _thing?" Her hands rushed to her mouth. "Oh my... He's not..."

"Whatever you're thinking, I'm sure it's not true," Damon said, unexpectedly coming to his brother's defence. "Stefan may be many things – a bore, broody, the lifeless soul of the party – but he isn't a cheater."

"No?" Elena gave him a pained look. "Even if he didn't hook up with her behind my back, he still didn't tell me about her being back in town, and that says a lot don't you think? Why was he protecting her? Why not tell me about her?"

"Same reason I didn't tell you until now," Damon said bluntly. "To protect you. But it seems the more you know about Katherine, the better. If she's back in town, chances are she's not here for nostalgic purposes. She has a game plan. What that game plan is, I don't know, but you two best be on the lookout, as I'm sure turning Caroline wasn't an accident."

Bonnie glared at Damon's casual tone but any harsh words she had been about to say died instantly at the look on Elena's face. It was one thing to learn your boyfriend was a vampire, and had a vampire ex-girlfriend who, until today, was thought to have been incarcerated in the tomb, a whole other matter entirely to learn the aforementioned vampire ex-girlfriend was not only alive and well, but was back in the town where she'd turned your boyfriend and his brother for her own amusement.

Bonnie rubbed her best friend's shoulder sympathetically, whilst simultaneously managing to hold her distrustful gaze on Damon. In her eyes, even though Damon, on this occasion, had done no wrong, she still couldn't completely absolve him of any guilt, as, technically, from what Elena had told her, Damon had loved her too.

"Stefan's been so weird recently," Elena muttered, shaking her head. "I don't think it's just down to the fact that he hadn't had a vision, because the Mayor didn't have a vision and he's not acting like a recluse."

"Mayor Lockwood didn't have a flash-forward?" Damon asked, raising an eyebrow, curious despite himself.

"According to the news, they're saying people without flash-forwards are going to die, which would be enough to throw anyone into shock, but I don't think these visions will come true," Elena said, trying (and failing) to look unconcerned.

Their eyes locked, and he could see even though she didn't verbally say _at __least, __I __hope __they __don't __come __true _the words rested there, and he felt a flash of hurt ripple through him before he eventually shuffled his features into an expression of indifference.

"So, what do we do about Katherine?" Bonnie asked, shifting nervously on the spot.

"Nothing," came Damon's blasé answer. "If she thinks we're not paying any attention to her, she'll get bored and move on."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Elena challenged, noticing his frown lines.

"No," he admitted. "But Katherine is smart. She knows how to play this game. I can't just lure her out and stake her." His fingers clenched tightly, producing a loud cracking noise. "It's a tempting idea, but a suicidal one."

"What do we do then?" Elena asked, sounding determined, and he knew she was dying to help.

He sighed, running a hand through his raven hair, knowing he ought to tell her to stay vigilant and do nothing, but that wouldn't fly with her at all. Though he knew next to nothing about her, he could tell she was one of these people who wouldn't be happy sitting idly by while a battle commenced before her. On the one hand, it wasn't a bad quality to possess, the desire to fight, but he didn't want her killed, and therein lied his biggest problem.

He cared about her – more than he should've done for someone of his calibre.

Just looking at her now, and remembering how he felt in his flash-forward, seemed to stir some sort of emotion inside of him. She resembled Katherine, but aside from their fierce spark, they shared nothing else in common, and he liked that. The women he'd found himself drawn to during the first few decades of his immortal life had been strong, fierce even, and he'd taken pleasure from compelling him into a submissive form of themselves, mostly as a way of taking out his frustrations, but the fact he'd not tried to do that to Elena at all, or try to claim her as his own, surprised him.

"The best thing you can do is remain vigilant," he said, sounding firm. "I'm sure she'll pay you a visit sometime – I'm sure she'll want to lay eyes on the thief who stole her looks," he winked, to show he wasn't entirely serious. "Just...leave it to me."

"Oh, hell no," Bonnie interjected angrily. "My Grams can help. She's a strong witch, and she can help us find Katherine and end her."

Damon's eyes lazily rolled onto hers.

"And how is she going to be able to distinguish between Elena and Katherine, hm? Because Katherine is going to play this whole doppelgänger business to the mark. There's a very good chance, "Elena"," he air quoted sarcastically, "is probably going to be doing some strange things this week, because Katherine enjoys making mischief. I can't add one more person to the list of people I have to keep her from tearing apart."

Bonnie looked startled by this explanation, and her eyes narrowed, as though she was trying to figure him out. He couldn't give a damn about that for the moment, and he turned so that his entire body faced Elena.

"I know you want to help," he told her earnestly, "but six months from now, you're alive. I don't want you to change that by dying on me early." He gave her a crinkled smile. "Let me and Stefan deal with Katherine. You two focus on Caroline. I have a stake somewhere..."

"No!" Bonnie and Elena cried as one.

"You're not honestly planning on keeping her alive are you?" he asked, exasperated. "She's a liability. She won't react to this life well and you two know it. I mean, for God's sake, when she was a human, everything was a drama. How is she going to cope?"

"We'll sort that out," Elena said determinedly, gritting her teeth. "We are not killing her, Damon. There are better ways to solve problems than murder."

For a moment, their individual glares locked together in a silent impasse, a stalemate that he was determined to break through. But, then again, he reasoned, trying to get Elena to see things his way was like talking to a brick wall.

"Fine," he exhaled, sounding irritated. "But if anything happens, it's on _your_shoulders." He gestured from Elena to Bonnie. "This is your mess now."

"It's Caroline," Elena shot back at him, her hands clenched into fists by her sides. "She's not a _mess_. We can fix her. We can fix this."

"Last time I checked, there's no way of turning a vampire back into a human, Elena," Damon told her bluntly. Then, seeing her face crumple, he added softly, "But I suppose she can be controlled, trained not to kill again."

"Trained? She's not a dog," Bonnie scoffed.

He immediately turned, his eyes flashing with irritation.

"No, but the blood-lust controls her," he snapped. "Unless you want her to kill again, thus forcing me to step in and stake her, I'd lose the attitude regarding my choice of vocabulary! The blood-lust can be controlled, but it'll take time, and a lot of effort on her part." His lip curled. "I give her two to three days max."

"Damon!" Elena snapped.

"What?" He feigned innocence. "Just speaking the truth. I thought you hated lies."

Elena muttered something under her breath, which prompted a smirk to dawn on his face. He was beginning to like this girl more and more...

* * *

><p>"I hate this," Caroline moaned, her body curled up on Stefan's bed – the darkest room in the house, before you asked – trying desperately to avoid the patches of sunlight which seemed to creep in undetected. "I'm an outdoor person! Everything happens <em>outside<em>!"

Stefan tossed her another blood bag, hoping getting some more blood in her would stem her irritation. He watched her carefully, waiting for some sign that she would snap, and he would lose any progress they'd made so far.

"You can do this, Caroline," he said patiently. "You just need to focus."

"Focus, huh?" Caroline scoffed. "Good luck with that pal. My teachers have been trying to get me to do that for years. Never worked for them."

Stefan felt his temper – fuelled by his own blood-lust – begin to shake.

"This isn't a joke, Caroline," he told her, trying to keep his irritation at bay. "This isn't like school which only takes up a portion of your day. This is a part of you now. If you don't take this seriously, Damon will take you out."

"You can stop him though, right?" Caroline asked, sounding unconcerned.

He pinched the ridge of his nose.

"When Damon puts his mind on something, he'll pretty much do anything to get it done," he told her. "He doesn't know about you yet, and when he does, I can assure you, he'll want to kill you. He doesn't like the idea of another vampire roaming around here, especially someone who's only just been turned. He'll think you a liability and, quite frankly, I think he's right."

At that, Caroline stiffened, her eyes falling on Stefan's.

"You think he's right to want to kill me?" she whispered, her bottom lip trembling.

"No," Stefan said, sighing. "I think he's right about the liability part. Look, I know your thoughts aren't going to be rational at this stage, but try and think in steps, okay? Step one was getting you somewhere safe, away from the light. Step two was getting some blood in you."

"What's step three?" she asked, beating him to the punch.

"Getting Bonnie to make you a daylight ring," he said, rubbing his chin.

"What's that?"

He tapped his ring. "A way of helping you walk in the sunlight. Witches make them, although knowing their aversion to vampires, I can't imagine they make them very often. Willingly, at least."

"Witches..." Caroline savoured the word. "Bonnie's one of them?" Her lips drooped. "She won't make me one. Not after the way she reacted when she s-saw me."

Stefan lifted Caroline's chin up, the tender gesture taking them both by surprise.

"Hey," he soothed. "She was just shocked. Shock makes us say and do crazy things. Once it wears off, I'm sure she'll help."

"How can you be so sure?" Caroline sniffed.

"Because Elena will want to help you," Stefan said firmly. "I'm sure Bonnie's already told her by now."

Caroline nodded, although she looked miserable.

"Why are _you _helping me anyway?" she asked, curious. "We've never had so much as a conversation together."

"Because you remind me of someone," he told her, smiling sadly. "Someone I cared for deeply."

"Is she dead?"

Stefan nodded. "Her name was Lexie. She had this spirit that you had. Like you, she said what she thought, didn't really care if people didn't like her. Although," he had to smile, "I never came across someone who didn't like her. Maybe Damon, but then again, Damon doesn't like most people..."

"He likes Elena," Caroline pointed out timidly.

A dark shadow crossed Stefan's face, which made her realize Damon and Elena's...relationship, for lack of a better word, was a sensitive area for him. Caroline, who'd never really managed to handle sensitivity – mostly because she had this annoying habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time – decided to, wisely, drop the subject.

"I remind you of Lexie, huh?" she said, trying her best to smile.

Stefan suddenly grinned, something which completely took her by surprise.

"What?" she demanded.

"This whole time we've been talking, you've not reacted to the fact you're holding a blood bag."

She glanced down at her hands, the veins around her eyes popping out as she saw he was right. Embarrassed, she tried to cover her face, but Stefan took her hands.

"Don't," he said, almost tenderly.

"But you just said..."

"When you're thinking about something else, it distracts you from the blood lust, if only for a little while," he explained. "You need to hold on to your humanity, Caroline. It's the most important tool which will help you get through this."

"How?" she asked, struggling to hide her scepticism.

"Think about it. Do you want to hurt people? Do you want to drain them dry until they're nothing more than skin and bones?"

She shuddered. "No."

"Then, you're still human," he told her. "If you concentrate, and think about the people you love, the blood-lust should be easier to contain. It'll never be completely easy, but you can retain your old life."

The words _old __life _suddenly triggered something in Caroline. A series of images flashed before her eyes, each starting off out of focus, but the more she concentrated on them, the more distinct each image became.

"Katherine did this to me!" she sobbed, barely managing to hold herself together.

"I know," Stefan said, unable to hide his anger and sorrow.

"Damon... He used me!" she continued, as the series of images and memories started to become whole pictures rather than just puzzle pieces. "He...He...drank from me. Made me d-do all s-sorts of s-stuff for h-him."

"I know that too."

She began to cry, tears staining her pale cheeks and smudging her make up.

"Why do people always walk all over me?" she sobbed, ignoring the blood bag completely, drawing her knees to her chest. "Why am I such a pushover?"

Stefan didn't know what to say. He couldn't offer her any traces of comfort when, really, he was going through a similar experience. Katherine seemed to know which buttons to push to get a reaction out of him, and always seemed to time her appearances when everything else in his life seemed to be crumbling. He could relate to Caroline, much more than she could've thought, and so, delicately, he threw his arms around her, and pulled her close towards him, her sobs barely stifled against his chest.

* * *

><p>He surveyed the town with interest.<p>

It was weird how a single global phenomenon could rock even the quietest of towns. He'd passed through here once before, only briefly because he'd heard rumours Katerina had lived here. Angry that she'd eluded his grasp once again, he recalled taking a pair of young maidens, whose only crime had been possessing wavy brown hair, and had slaughtered them. Ripped apart would've been a better phrase to use, but no matter.

His flash-forward had been a peculiar moment, and that was something he rarely said. In it, he'd been conversing with someone, a vampire, and that person had passed some incredible information on to him, something he could scarcely believe.

There was another doppelgänger, and she resided _here._

His plans after that had been very cautious. Trust was a commodity he didn't want to lose. Having been a sceptic right from the start of these flash-forwards, particularly when a good majority of them had involved people doing something incredible, something they otherwise would never have done – he'd taken pleasure in enchanting young women with his soft voice, coaxing what they'd seen out of them before promptly ending their lives, finding he derived a certain satisfaction from changing their futures.

Klaus shifted in the shadows of the woods, waiting for her to cross his sight again. He'd spotted her earlier, escorting a dark skinned young woman across the square, both wearing sombre expressions. Instinctively, his heart – what was left of it – had leaped into his mouth, because everything about this girl screamed human. Sure, Katerina could play human very easily when she wanted something, but somehow he doubted she'd be stupid enough to return to this one pony town.

He could've caught her now, slaughtering her best friend in the process, but his instinct nowadays involved caution. The world had been upended, which meant the rules had changed. Every stranger was a suspect; _what__did__you__see_ became the new _hello_. It was rather inconvenient, but, hey, he could adapt.

"Klaus?" a soft voice called from the shadows.

He briefly turned his head, spotting his witch, Maddox, lurking beside him like an unwanted creature. He concealed a sneer – as useful as witches were, he despised them all. Their magic had turned him into something even the supernatural loathed.

"You see that girl there," he gestured to the girl walking across the square, her arms folded, a twisted expression on her face. "She's the doppelgänger."

"The line ended with Katerina? That's what you've always said," Maddox said, sounding confused.

"That's what I believed, but apparently our sources got it wrong," Klaus remarked, not quite smiling, although the corners of his mouth were upturned.

"So, am I to assume the sacrifice ritual is to take place soon?" Maddox presumed.

"You assume too much," Klaus noted dryly. "But, yes. The next full moon occurs in a week, and it seems like fate seems to be giving us a helping hand."

"Begging your pardon, but how are we to be sure this girl is the doppelgänger?" Maddox asked quietly.

Klaus smiled.

"Because I can hear her heart racing from here," he murmured.

"We're nowhere near prepared," Maddox warned. "We don't have a vampire, we don't have a werewolf, and the moonstone's whereabouts seems to be unknown."

"Details," Klaus remarked, waving an impatient hand. "The vampire and the werewolf are easy to get." He smiled as a dark haired man joined his precious doppelgänger, the two of them immediately engaged in conversation. "The moonstone, however, I leave up to you. A week, Maddox, is all you have. Use it wisely."

Maddox nodded, and then turned on his heels and walked off, leaving Klaus to examine his doppelgänger closely, searching for ways to ensnare her.

These flash-forwards seemed to have their use after all.

Go figure.

* * *

><p>"Elena..." Damon chased Elena halfway across the square until he'd caught up to her. "We have to talk..."<p>

"No, we don't," Elena responded, frowning. "You lied, Damon."

"It's not the worst of my crimes, to be fair," he interjected.

"True," she conceded, before shaking her head. "But I still expect you to be honest with me, Damon, at least about the things I need to know. I hate being kept in the dark." She retrieved her cell phone, dialling Stefan's number. "Don't worry, though – Stefan's going to get the same lecture as you."

"Lecture?" He frowned at the tone. "I'm not a child, Elena. I don't need to be scolded just because I do something you don't like."

"Then why do you act like one?" she snapped, before gesturing him to hush.

_"__Elena...__"_

Oh that voice. It made her melt.

Elena had to fight to keep it together because that voice alone was going to destroy her. She had so many reasons to be angry at him, so many reasons for wanting to terminate their relationship, but she had to get some things of her chest first.

"Stefan..." She inhaled deeply. "We need to talk."

_"__Yeah, __we __do. __Caroline's __a __vampire.__She's __here __with __me.__"_

Elena blinked in surprise. She'd not expected that one.

"She's with you?" An irrational cluster of butterflies exploded inside her stomach, which she put down to jealousy, although she couldn't determine why this was. "Stefan... is she okay?"

_"__No, __but __she __will __be. __Can __you __meet __me __here?__" _

A face to face confrontation was the right method, but Elena still felt uncomfortable by the idea. She looked for Damon for support, but he was alternating between sticking his tongue out and rolling his eyes, having decided if she was going to label his behaviour as childish, he sure as hell was going to make that label fit.

She looked away, fighting the urge to laugh for some bizarre reason.

"Okay," she said, swallowing loudly. "I'm on my way."

As she hung up the phone, she suddenly became aware someone was watching her. She glanced around nervously, as if expecting someone to pop into view, and then shrugged, putting this feeling down to paranoia.

"I need to go talk to Stefan," she said. "Caroline's at the Boarding House."

"Super," Damon responded, rolling his eyes. "Enjoy the melodrama, Elena. I need a drink... A lot of them actually."

And he'd turned on his heels and walked briskly away before she could protest.

* * *

><p>"Thanks for dinner," Jenna said gratefully, as Alaric walked her to her door. "Honestly, with Jeremy and Elena out all the time, I'm glad to have some company."<p>

"No problem," Alaric smiled, escorting her up the steps, unable to wipe the smile off of his face.

"I have to apologize for the wine incident," she added, actually blushing. "I usually don't emit liquid from my nose when I laugh."

"Suurrreee you don't," he said sarcastically, earning a snort from her.

She tilted her head to one side, considering him for a second.

"For two people who agreed not to turn this into a date, this kind of was a date," she pointed out. "How did that happen?"

He shook his head, pretending to look baffled.

"It's a mystery," he said, grinning.

Jenna laughed, her eyes shining with warmth and amusement.

They stood there in a companionable silence, the gentlest of breezes fluttering carelessly past. Jenna's grin devolved into a quiet smile, and she secretly knew she didn't want this date – oh, how she loved that word – to end. She could only hope she'd finally found someone worth keeping in her life, whether that was as a friend or otherwise.

He stepped forward, his eyes uncertain, before pressing his lips lightly against hers. She felt her breath being tugged from her body, but she was quick to respond, her hands gripping his arms. She felt a rush she hadn't felt since she was a teenager. When their lips pulled apart, she felt this sense of regret, only because she'd wanted the kiss to last a lot longer than it had.

_So __much __for __swearing __off __men __forever, _she thought to herself wryly.

"Goodnight, Jenna," Alaric told her softly, backing away into the night before she had the chance to invite him inside.

Jenna stared into the darkness, unable to hide the smile which had been on her face all night. She remembered what she felt in her flash-forward at the mention of Alaric's name – it had to be him, no one else possessed such a unique name in this predictable town – remembered feeling like there had been no other name she'd wanted to hear, like despite his absence, he was present in a way no other man could match.

She could've classed it as love, but she was still cynical about the flash-forwards. She preferred he idea that these visions were a guideline than something they all had to adhere to. Truthfully, the idea of her being pregnant scared her to death; children had never been a part of her plan. Even Jeremy and Elena, both blossoming well, were beyond her at times.

Shaking her head at how crazy her thoughts seemed to be just lately, Jenna walked towards the house, reaching into her bag for the keys. She felt something flutter past her, and she whirled around, relieved to see Elena standing there.

"God, you scared me," she said, clutching her heart and grinning. "How much of that did you, um, see?"

"Enough to know somebody's crushing on my new teacher," Elena grinned, but the grin didn't match her eyes.

"Crushing is such a strong word," Jenna began, before laughing softly and dropping her head. "Alright, alright – I think I like him. I like him more than I've liked anybody in a long time, including Logan Scumfell."

Elena laughed, but again there was something odd about the way she was looking at her, almost as though she was examining an item in a museum.

"That bracelet," she said, gesturing to the hemp bracelet on Jenna's wrist. "Mind if I take a look at it for a moment?"

"Why?"

"I just want to check something," Elena said casually.

Jenna shrugged, before removing the bracelet around her wrist and handing it to Elena, unsure why she suddenly felt a wave of unease roll through her, an experience akin only to the sensation you get on a roller-coaster before a particularly steep drop.

Elena took the bracelet carefully, before tossing it aside, closing the gap between them in a matter of seconds.

"You will invite me inside," Katherine intoned, dropping the façade.

"I will invite you inside," Jenna responded instinctively, her world going fuzzy.

She had no control over what happened next. All she became aware of was that she had to get inside and invite Elena inside for some reason. She opened the door, turned robotically around, and invited Elena inside.

"Thank you," Katherine simpered pleasantly, stepping inside, casting her eyes around in amusement.

"What's going - ?" Jenna began, before a flash of silver came into view, and she felt something pierce through her stomach.

She crumpled, agony spreading across her face like fire across dry grass. She looked up with accusing eyes at Elena, before realizing she wasn't exactly seeing Elena, and then let out a loud moan of pain.

"Sorry," Katherine apologized, sounding anything but sincere. "It was either you or Jeremy, and he's not home right now."

"W-Why?" Jenna managed to get out.

An unpleasant smile curled across Katherine's face.

"Why?" she repeated, as if the question had been an extremely dumb one to ask. "I'm changing the future. Yours, to be precise." She smiled. "Just think, if your dear sweet niece had just picked the _right _toys to play with, instead of borrowing mine, you wouldn't be staining the floor here." She nudged Jenna none too gently with her foot. "I'd offer to give you my blood, but I suspect it's too late to intervene."

And with that, she gave a parting smile, meant to look angelic, before disappearing out of the door and into the darkness, feeling confident in the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, she'd changed the future. The way she saw it was that with Jenna gone, Elena would be angry at Stefan, presumably blaming either him or Damon for it, thus cutting all ties with them. She didn't know for sure Stefan's death had to do with Elena, but she knew Stefan would've been a lot safer by her side than by her doppelgänger.

Still, she couldn't get that image out of her mind, the misty grey vision where she saw herself standing by Stefan's pathetic excuse for a grave, her eyes dipped in sorrow.

It's funny.

Her original plan in coming back, before the entire world had blacked out and ruined everything, was to drop in unexpectedly, perhaps charm Stefan into realizing she was the only one he would ever love, to secure the moonstone which, she'd been assured by Mason Lockwood, the brother of the Mayor, resided somewhere in the confinements of the Lockwood estate. Now, however, she had to rearrange an entire future, and that troubled her.

She'd manipulated hearts, before promptly shattering them, and she'd created puppets out of even the strongest of characters, but this – trying to save the life of someone who would never forgive her for the games she'd played, as well as trying to make sure she herself stayed alive – was proving to be her biggest challenge yet.

And yet because it was Stefan – wasn't he always the reason every insane moment she'd experienced seemed worthwhile? - she found changing her plans didn't matter in the slightest.

She'd turned him, effectively ending his mortal life forever, so she owed it to him – and to her heart (what was left of it) – to save his immortal life.

* * *

><p><strong>An: I realize this is a weird fic, because season 2 events are happening in season one, but I'm trying to bring all these danger elements in earlier than expected to keep you all on your toes. The tomb vampires, for now, will remain in the tomb, as I thought that particular storyline wasn't the greatest the show has ever told.**

**As a special mention, I'd like to thank Kat for not just commenting on this story, but all of my other Delena stories. I always value your opinion, and I love hearing you analyse everything. Thank you so much.**

**See you all next chapter, which will be, as a warning, the most angsty chapter yet... and not for the reasons you might think.**


	15. Broken Strings

Chapter 15: Broken Strings

* * *

><p>Elena couldn't say what it was which made her head towards her own house, rather than the Boarding House. All she knew was she felt this almost impatient tug in her chest, which told her she needed to go home. She'd phoned Bonnie ahead of time, telling her she was just heading home to pick up some stuff to cheer Caroline up – <em>The<em>_Notebook_on DVD, old memorabilia, little items which would put the focus off of the whole turning-into-a-vampire situation.

As she reached her house, she felt a sense of foreboding. She couldn't quite pin it down to a specific event or memory which might've helped explain it, but she took a couple of seconds to study the house, realizing after a moment why everything felt so wrong. The lights were on, but there was no sound, nothing to indicate anybody was moving about.

Reaching for her keys, Elena opened the door, and came across her worst nightmare. Lying in a pool of blood, gasping her lungs out from the sound of things, was Jenna, and Elena stood there, frozen, too terrified to think, act. She could hear her own frantic heart trying to hurl itself up her throat, and for one gut-wrenching moment, she believed she would vomit.

Instantly, however, she realized she couldn't let this fear take over her, couldn't let it in otherwise she was going to end up harming Jenna even more than she already was. Speeding towards her dying aunt, she quickly grabbed her phone, dialling the first number she could pluck out of her chaotic mind.

Thankfully, despite the way he'd coldly brushed her away earlier, Damon seemed to be unable to resist answering his phone, even though he must've seen it was her name flashing up on the screen.

_"__Hey, __gorgeous. __Miss __me __already?__"_

She wanted to smile – hell, she was smiling, because somehow she couldn't help but be charmed, even though it was a piggish way to open a conversation.

"Damon," she managed to get out. "Get over here. Jenna's been stabbed. I need you to help me take her to the hospital."

She half expected him to say no, that she could handle her own problems, but then again, Damon did have this way of taking her by surprise.

_"__Call __the __hospital. __Tell__ 'em __we're __on __our __way. __I'll __bring __the __car,__" _he relayed, his tone calm, reassuring, which was just what she needed to hear considering she felt like she was about to fall apart at the seams.

"Okay," she said breathlessly. "Anything else?"

_"__Yeah...__Keep __calm. __She's __not __going __to __die. __I __won't __let __her__ – __promise.__"_

Elena nodded, and then remembered he couldn't see her.

"Thanks," she whispered, before hanging up.

Running into the kitchen, she grabbed some cloths and hurried back, noticing Jenna's face was chalk white. She pressed the cloths to the wound, hoping to staunch most of the blood flow. Her hands trembled as she tried to complete her task, not really noticing until she began to pull herself together that another set of hands were on top of hers, adding extra pressure.

Elena's eyes rolled onto Damon, who wore a solemn, perhaps even angry expression. But the anger wasn't directed at her, she was sure.

"Oh, Damon..." She felt hot, frightened tears cascade down her cheeks. "I don't know what I..."

"Ssh," he said, not exactly harsh, but firm enough to make her see he wasn't going to dole out sympathy on demand. "Right, let's get her into the car."

"Can't you feed her your blood?" Elena asked desperately.

He gave her a look.

"I could, but at the rate she's fading, might not do much good," he said grimly. "Plus it would slightly spoil our plans for keeping her in the dark if she dies and ends up coming back as a vampire."

Elena nodded, her face ashen. With Damon's help, they picked up Jenna, quickly making their way out of the door and into his car.

"I'll take her to the hospital. You go and see Caroline," he said, once Jenna was lying across the back seat of his car.

"What? No way, Jenna needs me..." Elena began to argue.

"Please! One crisis at a time," he almost yelled, reigning back his temper at the shell-shocked look on her face. "Elena, if this gets bad, I'll do what it takes to save her. I don't want you seeing it, though. Go and deal with Caroline."

She bit her lip, clearly torn, but after a moment she nodded, after realizing she was only going to be in the way. She watched as Damon gave her a soft look, which was meant to be reassuring, and then piled into the front seat, before driving off at an alarming speed. More tears streamed from her eyes, temporarily clouding her eyes.

After a moment, allowing herself to compose herself, Elena turned to head back inside her house – if only to clean up before going to visit Caroline – when she was suddenly found herself facing a man. He was in his late twenties, perhaps early thirties, and possessed caramel brown hair, bordering on blonde, and wore a smile which, to her eyes, felt a bit disturbing. He just stood there, simply staring at her.

"Um...who are you?" she enquired, keeping herself polite and distant at the same time. "Why are you outside my house?"

"I'm sorry, love," the man apologised, and she had to marvel at his accent, which sounded British. "Didn't mean to frighten you. I'm new to town. This was the first place I stumbled upon, so was wondering if you could give me directions to the nearest place to get something to eat."

"Right..." Elena blinked at this sudden burst of normality. "Um, you'll want the Mystic Grill. It serves food until nine."

She gave him directions, which was all well and good except his attentive stare didn't seem to be as a result of the instructions she was giving him. His gaze looked appreciative as his eyes surveyed her from head to toe. She felt uncomfortable, but was too polite to say so.

"Thank you, m'dear," he said, gently taking her hand and pressing it to his lips, his gaze filled with some sort of fascination, though she could scarcely see why.

"Are you staying here long?" she managed to get out, allowing curiosity to get the better of her.

"I'm just in town for some business, and then I'm leaving," the stranger informed her, grinning as though in on a private joke.

"Right... Listen, I don't mean to rush this, but I've got to go," Elena said, shuddering, although she couldn't explain why.

"I shall see you shortly," the man murmured, before promptly disappearing.

Elena rubbed her eyes, wearied by the day's events so far. She realized she hadn't asked for the man's name, and he hadn't asked for hers, which wasn't really strange except she had the feeling he already knew it. There was something almost all knowing in the way he'd stared at her, something almost predatory-like. She came to the disturbing conclusion he was a vampire, but deciding that information wasn't her priority right now, she decided to skip cleaning her house, instead sending Jeremy a quick text to inform him that Jenna was in the hospital before getting into her car, her hands still shaking, and driving off to the Boarding House.

* * *

><p>Katherine stiffened.<p>

Something felt very, very _wrong._ Normally, she was on her game, able to spot when something was going down. She'd been watching the roads carefully, not entirely sure what she was looking out for exactly. Her best guess was that she was searching for some sort of danger that would end up putting Stefan in an early – well, late, if you really wanted to get technical – grave.

She shoved the gormless student who'd provided her with lunch, quickly compelling him not to remember what she'd done, and then ran, unsure what she was running from exactly. Something had felt off today, and she couldn't define why that was.

Katherine eventually drew to a stop outside a small abandoned shack in the woods. At least, it had been abandoned when she'd passed it before. Now, smoke was exiting the makeshift chimney, and there were lights on. Curiosity told her to explore; logic told her to run like hell. In the head, she caved in to curiosity.

Tiptoeing forwards, she glanced around, as if expecting something to come crashing out of the shadows, before proceeding. Eventually, impatience got the better of her, and she darted forwards, peering through the windows to see if she could see anything. There was a fire going, that she could gather, but there were no people inside.

Before she could back away, finally caving into logic – the sensible choice each and every time – she felt an overwhelming amount of pain attempting to crush her brain. Her hands flew to her head, and she fell to her knees, a loud moan of pain escaping her lips. Even through the pain, she spotted a figure walking towards her, and then suddenly she was yanked to her feet, a familiar hand curled against her clothes, keeping her pinned in place.

"Katerina... Oh how I've missed you," drawled a soft voice.

She bucked in terror.

"Klaus!" she hissed, her fear freezing her body into place.

He smiled pleasantly.

"Did not expect to run into you, I must say," he said, sounding delighted. "I've just had the pleasure of running into your doppelgänger. Did you have plans to see her?"

"Not as such," Katherine muttered, trying and failing to free herself.

"She's nothing like you, that's for sure," Klaus felt the need to enlighten her. "For one thing, she actually has a heart."

"Ouch," Katherine muttered. "Remind me to care about that."

"She also seemed a bit distracted... I saw her aunt being carried out, practically in a body bag by the look of things. Your work, I presume?"

Katherine shrugged, remorseless.

"What can I say? I like playing with fate." She gave Klaus a hard look. "The only thing I believe we have in common, judging by the fact you're here. How did you hear about Elena?"

"My flash-forward of course," Klaus replied coolly. "I've been trying to break this curse for a thousand years, so naturally I wasn't going to miss an opportunity to see this mysterious doppelgänger for myself. My last chance at breaking the curse." His hand rested on her cheek. "Something you weren't willing to help me with. Perhaps Elena will be more obliging."

Katherine squirmed uncomfortably.

"I'd do it again you know," she told him squarely. "Betraying you, as sick as it sounds, was the best decision I ever made. Pissing you off is my main objective in this life, Klaus. Ain't gonna pretend otherwise."

She expected him to hurl abuse at her, to hit her, or perhaps strike a fatal blow in the direction of her heart. He did none of these things. Instead, he threw back his head and laughed, actually amused by her comment.

"Oh, I've missed your spark," he informed her, his eyes glittering with something close to amusement. "I will enjoy coaxing that out of you for the next – say – five hundred years?"

She began to tremble.

"Five hundred years?"

"Why, yes. You didn't think I'd be merciful and kill you right now did you? Tut, how naïve. I've been chasing you for over five hundred years. Your death is going to last at least half that long."

Katherine wasn't one to let her emotions get the better of her, but the idea of being tortured by the hands of the man she'd been running from for centuries terrified her. She held her head up, determined not to show him her fear, but he'd always been very good at reading her. Even now, she could see him scrutinising her carefully, his grip on her firm enough so that she couldn't run away, but soft enough to almost lull her into a false sense of security.

He'd always been very good at conflicting her. Even in those old days, during the time when she'd been inexplicably fascinated by him, a part of her had always feared him. He just had this presence which conveyed power, and the problem was he knew it.

_Now __why __couldn't __my __flash-forward __have __shown __this? _she wondered angrily. _This __would've __been __useful __information __to __have acquired, __so __I __would've __known __to __avoid __this __godforsaken __town._

"Maddox..." Klaus called, his voice cold, his eyes cruel.

She averted her gaze, searching for this other person, but another intense amount of pain entered her head before she could see anything, and as she crashed to the ground, the last thought which ran through her mind was that it had been a mistake being so cocky, so arrogant that nothing could touch her, before darkness claimed her.

* * *

><p>Elena approached the Boarding House with a feeling of dread. She couldn't quite explain to herself why she felt this way because, really, Caroline was going to be the same person she'd always been. Damon and Stefan were proof that a vampire could still retain their humanity, although Damon would rather die than admit so.<p>

She took the briefest of moments to contemplate Damon. It was becoming a regular habit at this point, trying to examine his motives, why he always walked the fine line between being human and being a monster. Despite everything she'd said and thought up until this point, she'd liked the way she'd felt in her flash-forward. She'd enjoyed that sense of security, of feeling that undeniable amount of love and affection – requited, on both sides – and it didn't even matter that all that seemed to come with the wrong brother.

Deep down, Elena was a romantic at heart. Her heart had hardened over time, mostly because she knew the world she now lived in was darker than she could've imagined, but she still believed in happy endings. She believed in good triumphing over evil, even if sometimes that evil seemed impossible to defeat.

But this evil right here, the one which seemed to surround this town, making it almost impossible to make happy memories, she couldn't quite see an ending to it. With Katherine back in town, corrupting everything good, she couldn't quite lift the despair within her heart, which was why each step she took towards the Boarding House felt heavy, loaded with grief and heartache.

Stefan greeted her at the door, his face passive.

"Hey," he said softly, giving her a small smile.

She ignored the tender gesture, brushing past him impatiently.

"Where is she?" she demanded, her face stricken.

"Upstairs. In the third bedroom past mine," he told her.

She nodded curtly, biting back words she couldn't express at this time. Racing up the stairs, she counted along the doors until she found the one where Caroline and Bonnie where, the two of them on opposite ends of the room, Bonnie wearing a tight expression.

"Oh, Caroline," Elena cried, rushing to embrace her friend.

The gesture threw her friend off guard, who tentatively returned the hug.

As Elena withdrew, she examined Caroline's face, noticing the tightness around her eyes, the faint tear stains on her cheeks and knew her friend had been suffering.

"See, Bonnie. This is how _friends_ react," Caroline couldn't help but throw in, glaring at her tense friend.

"I – This is hard for me, Caroline," Bonnie shot back, wringing her hands together. "You're new. You've not had the years of control Stefan has. Who's to say you won't attack me and Elena?"

"Because I haven't so far!" Caroline yelled, blurring to her feet, her fists clenched by her hands.

Bonnie's face wore an _I __told __you __so _look.

"You're letting your emotions get the best of you," she said pointedly, almost with a tone of resignation. "How do you expect to survive unless you can keep it together?"

"And your flash-forward was what, you acting all calm and cool?" Caroline shot back. "You said yourself you were looking through this book of spells..looking for revenge."

"I never said revenge," Bonnie spluttered, reddening.

"No, but it comes to the same thing. You're criticizing me for something I didn't want. I didn't want this future, but it came true all the same!" Caroline sighed, as if about to divulge something unpleasant. "In my flash-forward, I was a vampire. I didn't feel the way I do now – alone and vulnerable. I felt strong. Powerful. Which means sometime in the next however many months, I'm going to be able to control this."

"But - "

"Bonnie," Elena interrupted firmly. "We're talking about Caroline here. This is the same girl who single-handedly organized three parties in the space of a night. If she says she'll be able to control it, I believe her."

Bonnie struggled for a moment, but after a few minutes of silent contemplation, and with eyes which seemed to contain so much heartache and agony, she nodded, and the three girls collapsed into an impregnable embrace, amidst a cacophony of sobs, broken murmurs and even the odd laugh.

Stefan surveyed the scene with a quiet smile, somehow knowing Caroline was going to be okay. He hadn't had anyone in the beginning, and even when Lexie had come into his life, her visits had been sparse, although her wisdom had always been unquestionable. He found her absence still tore at him day by day.

Truthfully, whilst Caroline's transition had been a welcome distraction, a way to give him another thing to focus on other than the blood, it had only been for a little while. Now, the blood-lust was back, burning inside his throat like the wildest of fires. He could hear two distinctive hearts beating, and he knew if he didn't get out of here, he would regret it.

Running alongside that urge, however, came a far more intense feeling, a feeling he'd missed during his little...episode.

_Love._

He saw Elena and craved to hold her again, to tell her everything would be okay, that the future was theirs to change, that he would never leave her again.

If only he could.

The only problem was that they no longer knew what never meant anymore.

* * *

><p>Jenna felt her eyes flutter open, and a sea of white greeted her. The smell of bleach crawled into her nostrils, and she fidgeted uncomfortably at the feel of thin white sheets clinging to her skin. The movement itself, however, caught on her stomach, causing an intense amount of pain to ripple through her.<p>

"I wouldn't do that, sweetie," came a sickeningly sweet voice.

She looked up at the nurse who was fluttering around some of the standard hospital equipment soap operas showed.

"What happened to me?" Jenna asked, struggling to remember. "I was at home."

"You were cooking and you tripped with a knife in your hand," the nurse filled her in, looking mildly disapproving. "I guess some people weren't meant for the kitchen, huh?"

Jenna laughed weakly.

"You can say that again," she grumbled, lifting up the hospital gown she was wearing and staring with incredulity at the long scar she had running across her stomach. "Wow – looks really bad."

"Well, you did plunge a knife into your stomach. Ain't gonna leave a pretty mark, that's for sure," the nurse said, chuckling. "We almost lost you for a while there. You were brought in just the nick of time. A few minutes longer, and we might have lost you."

"Where are Jeremy and Elena?" Jenna asked, her eyes searching the room. "Do they know? Oh God, were they _there_?"

"Your nephew is out in the waiting room, practically inhaling the coffee from the machine," the nurse filled her in. "As for your niece – Elena, was it? - she mustn't have heard yet. She's not there."

"Who brought me in then?" Jenna asked, her gaze speculative.

"He didn't leave his name," the nurse said, almost apologetically. "He just told us what had happened, told us who you were, and said to make sure they did everything possible to save you." She shrugged. "Must've been someone who cared a great deal about you."

Jenna nodded, still none the wiser as to who it was. It could've been Alaric, but she remembered saying goodbye to him at the door. She didn't remember even entering her kitchen, or having the desire to cook anything. Perhaps she'd hit her head as she'd fallen to the ground, erasing those last few memories, which prompted a question which had already been on the tip of her tongue.

"So any lasting damage other than the ten foot scar?" she joked, fidgeting awkwardly underneath the thin sheets. "My flash-forward showed me pregnant, so I can't imagine that did anything to help the cause."

The nurse switched looks at that moment, her eyes glinting with something close to sympathy. Jenna's smile faded a little, as if sensing she was about to receive some bad news.

"I hate to be the one to break this to you, hon, but the damage done to your...reproductive system was more severe than we initially realized. Had you been brought in a few moments earlier maybe we could've..."

"What?" Jenna snapped, irritated by all the mystery.

"The knife missed your vital organs, which is the good news. No lasting damage done in that department. But," the nurse hesitated, biting her lip, "I'm afraid to say children aren't going to be a part of your future. Not the natural way, anyway. Of course, there's always surrogacy, and adoption..."

Jenna didn't hear anything else.

_Children __aren't __going __to __be __a __part __of __your __future..._

Her heart sank into the black chasms of despair and grief. She saw her flash-forward, but this time the picture was distorted. It no longer made any sense. The same basic pieces were there – the gynaecologist, the ultrasound, the ridiculously comfy chair – but there was no baby on the screen.

No baby.

She wondered why her cheeks were suddenly moisturised, why her body seemed to be shaking uncontrollably, why she could no longer see anything but blurred shapes – and then it hit her.

She was crying.

Grief was a strange thing. It seemed to take a part of you away with it, like the coming and going of the tide, but instead of immediately banishing the part of you which was gone, it allowed it to hover there, always on the fringes, never able to get close enough for you to snatch it back.

It was the same with her vision. Okay, the idea of having a child had freaked her out. Pushing something out of that area, and having to deal with that sort of responsibility for the rest of her life, hadn't exactly enticed her as an option, but at least she'd had that option.

How could the future have shown itself if it wasn't going to happen?

Why was it being cruel, showing her that little piece of happiness before robbing it away, in the same manner as a bully taunting his victim with the toy he'd cruelly snatched from his grasp?

Maybe it was because the future really could change, that the initial premonitions were about as solid as water, in the sense that once you tried to step on them, make them real, you fell too deep, making you realize what you'd experienced was nothing more than an impossible outcome, that you could no more see the future than you could walk on water. But she'd wanted that future, more than she'd thought judging by how near hysteria her sobs were becoming.

As the nurse quietly exited the room, Jenna reflected on what she was more upset about – losing the ability to have children, or losing the ability to have that specific child.

* * *

><p>After managing to finally secure Bonnie's support, who was now in the process of asking her Grams whether or not it was possible to make a daylight ring, Elena decided to head off to the hospital.<p>

Stefan escorted her downstairs, and what hit her the most was how awkward things seemed to be between them. Sure, they'd had arguments before, but there was a finality about this particular one which seemed to break them both. They exchanged the odd longing look, and a few times their hands came close to touching, but the lies they'd told seemed to weave a kind of veil between them, a veil they could see through but never reach.

"Thanks for taking such good care of her, Stefan," Elena said at the door, trying her best to conjure up a brave smile. "She really seems to be taking this a lot better than I thought she would."

"She's certainly taking it better than Vickie," Stefan agreed, both of them tensing up at that reminder. He scratched his head, before asking, "I'm sorry to hear about Jenna, Elena. Is there anything I could do?"

She looked at him, suddenly fighting back tears.

"No," she said softly. "But there's something you could've done. You could've been there for me when I needed you most." She inhaled deeply, wishing these words didn't have to be said. "I get why you couldn't tell me you didn't have a flash-forward, I do. But to jump down my throat about what I saw? What if the way you reacted is what pushes me into Damon's arms?"

She noticed the horrified look on Stefan's face and knew he'd not given any of this much thought. The fact he'd been so self-absorbed was nothing like the Stefan she'd known. She couldn't help comparing the brothers at that particular moment, observing fairly that whilst Damon was usually remorseless, guiltless, often bordering on soulless in terms of the way he acted, at least he was consistent. He didn't try and be someone he wasn't, although she was sure he was evolving in certain aspects of his life, and she had to wonder whether it was because of the flash-forwards.

"Elena – I..." Stefan began, swallowing loudly.

"Don't," she said, shrugging away when his hands reached out towards her. "The fact that you didn't think about this anything – the fact you chose to shut yourself down, rather than try to deal with this – tells me we haven't got a shot in hell at working. I don't want to be lied to Stefan. I don't want you to try to deal with stuff on your own. I thought we were a team, that we would face whatever problems the world had for us together." It was her turn to swallow loudly, the motion painful. "With Katherine back in town – and yes, I know about that by the way – and with everything else going on, all I keep thinking about is what else you're hiding from me. I'm done with the lies, so unless there's anything else you want to tell me, I have to go to the hospital..."

She turned to leave, but two words stopped her; two words which completely shattered her entire world – a world which was fragile enough as it was – and which were delivered in a hoarse, barely audible voice.

"You're adopted."

* * *

><p><strong>An: Stefan doesn't really have a sense of timing does he? :P Well, his storyline is far from over, so expect more angst from him. Tyler returns next chapter, so there's some Forwood - not necessarily positive Forwood - oh and some Delena. Plus Anna takes drastic new measures to spring her mother from the tomb so you've got all that to look forward to! thanks for the reviews :) I skip with joy for every new one I get so thanks!**


	16. Shattered Realities

Chapter 16: Shattered Realities

* * *

><p>Each step Caroline took out into the open felt amazing. The light hit her face and, due to her obsessive fascination with the world of <em>Twilight, <em>she waited for her skin to sparkle and shine, before another memory came bursting to the surface, equally as bright to behold, and just as surprising.

_"How come you don't sparkle?"_

_"Because I come from the real world where vampires burn in the sun..."_

She shuddered at the memory, realizing it belonged to another time, an unhappier time when she'd let herself fall for the wrong guy simply because he'd shown a bit of interest (for the wrong reasons). Still, the future seemed brighter, admittedly more ambiguous than she'd planned but still, the fact she had a future seemed to tell her maybe things would be okay.

With her daylight ring on her finger – courtesy of Bonnie's grandmother, although the gift had come with a warning, naturally – Caroline enjoyed the fresh air, and the way the sun felt on her face was an experience akin to nothing else. But still she kept replaying that conversation in her own mind, how meeting up with Bonnie's grandmother had been a completely nerve wrecking experience.

"I remember when you and Bonnie were five and playing on my front porch," Sheila had said, her eyes wistful, even sad. "Even then, I knew the world was dangerous, and that the town we resided in would always be on the fringes of something dark and menacing, but I had no idea it would affect you."

There had been an awkward moment where Bonnie had looked like she wanted to cry. Caroline tried to smile, tried to find the words to reassure the woman she'd known all her life, if only visiting her on occasion, that everything would be fine, that in the future she would be strong enough to let someone else depend on her for a change, but the words became lodged in her throat.

"I'll be fine, Sheila," she'd managed to get out, massaging her throat as the familiar burning sensation hit her.

"You're a vampire, Caroline," Sheila had responded sadly. "You'll never be fine again."

At this point, she'd given Stefan a dark stare, not quite menacing but enough that they all knew she was sending him a message. She'd not hosted the meeting in her house, for obvious reasons, but had directed them to a small outhouse nearby where they could meet in private.

"The witch who creates the spell can also de-spell it," Sheila had also warned. "Now, my involvement in this will only go so far, because I don't want Bonnie to be a part of this anymore than she already is, so I will do this one last thing for you, but I want you to know this comes with a warning. If any of you try and cause any trouble for this town, I will have to intervene, and I won't go easy on you just because I've known you ever since you were born." She gave Caroline a quiet look. "Now my prejudices only extend so far. The fact Stefan saved you and is responsible for your welfare tells me there's more good in him than bad. But I have to tell you, this is going to be a long battle, Caroline. The urge to kill is a part of you and, for better or for worse, you're going to have to live with that – you'll have to fight it."

"I can do it," Caroline had croaked, blinking rapidly as she'd tried to absorb all this new information.

"Please do, Caroline," Bonnie had spoken up, her eyes wide, her mouth tense.

And that had concluded that particular tense meeting, with a lot of tense looks and stares being exchanged.

Caroline shuddered now as she recalled it. Sheila had been understanding – a lot more understanding than Bonnie had been at first – but she realized that in order to make her future come true, in order to be that strong person she'd always longed to be, she was going to have to make this work. She couldn't succumb to her urges.

This was harder than it appeared. Every little sound sounded a thousand times louder than it should've been, which meant she could hear a heartbeat from a long way away. Every sense was heightened, which meant the world appeared brighter, more colourful, and everything stood out.

As she explored this, she found her eyes wandering past everything, the world distracting her to the point where she didn't noticed she'd stumbled into someone until contact had been breached.

She reacted impulsively, staggering backwards, her hands clawing at her throat.

It was then she saw who she'd stumbled into.

"Tyler?" she gasped, staring at him.

"Caroline?" he mimicked her response, his stare hard, his body posture tense.

She searched his expression for the source of his anger – that was how he appeared to be anyway – but found nothing.

"Are you – Are you okay?" she asked, trying to tune out the sound of his heart beat.

"I don't know, Car. Am I?" he questioned, the irritation coming out in short bursts. "Weren't you, I dunno, supposed to come to my house?"

Everything came rushing back at this point. She staggered back, squinting at him.

"I was," she whispered, then added lamely, "something came up."

Tyler waited, evidently waiting for her to produce an excuse but none seemed realistic enough. She couldn't tell him the truth, nor could she lie. Instead, she settled on shrugging, the gesture causing a ripple of pain to cross her face.

"I see," Tyler said, sounding cold, detached. "So you couldn't have called? Let me know you weren't coming?"

"Why does it even matter?" Caroline burst out, in her usual blunt, insensitive manner. "It wasn't anything special, Tyler. Just a visit. I couldn't make it, I wish I could tell you why, but I don't want grief over it."

He shook his head, the anger evolving into fury.

"Less than six months from now, I'm supposed to be with you, and we're supposed to be friends," he said slowly, his anger causing his voice to tremble. "I don't have many friends, Car. I'm angry. My temper causes me to push people away, even people like Matt. I though maybe - " He paced up and down, agitated. "Look, I'm not looking for a pity party here. My dad treats me like crap and my mom looks away, focuses on keeping up appearances. On the outside, we're the perfect American family. On the inside, I feel like I don't belong. I just... I'm an angry person." He stared at her. "I just thought you might be the one person who'd understand given... Well, given the fact you have a similar thing going on."

"What do you mean by that?" Caroline asked, guarded, trying to put as much physical distance between her and Tyler, aware of the thirst but managing to reign it in thanks to some tips from Stefan.

"You're similar to me. We both have abrasive personalities, parents we don't get on with, and we both hide all our issues by keeping ourselves busy. Me, with sports. You with whatever it is the hell you do with the school," Tyler elaborated.

Caroline couldn't explain why she felt insulted by what Tyler had said. She'd always resented him on some level, mostly because he did have this habit of pushing people who tried to care about him away. But the last comment he'd made – the comment about not knowing what the hell she did for the school – really got to her. Because despite the fact he'd lectured her on bailing, the fact he seemed to not really know her at all wound her up.

She felt her emotions entangle together. Anger became rage. Rage became fury, which devolved into some form of bitterness. Bitterness became anger again. In short, she could no longer decipher her own emotions, and she hated the fact Tyler was the one messing her own mind up like this.

"Screw you, Tyler," she hissed. "I'm not going to stand here and be lectured like I've done something wrong. Something came up, I couldn't get hold of you to explain, and that's it. A real friend would want to know about that, would want to ask if I'm okay, but I guess you haven't learned to care like that about people yet."

She stalked past him, stiffening as he grabbed her arm. In a flash, she'd twisted his arm, forcing him to his knees. Ignoring the look of surprise on his face, she flashed him a scathing look.

"Today is not the day to be messing with me," she warned him, surprised that she'd managed to reign in her anger to the point where she'd managed not to kill him.

And with those final scathing words, she stormed off.

* * *

><p>Anna was desperate.<p>

With her ally gone, and with Elena under the watchful eye of Stefan and Damon – more-so the latter brother nowadays, which was an interesting development, and it presented a possible way of exploiting Damon later on – she'd run out of tricks in regards to finding the Grimoire which would reveal how to undo the tomb spell.

Around Jeremy, who seemed quite charmed by her, unaware most of the way she acted was just that, an act, she found it difficult to try and keep her mind on what he was saying and try and fathom out a plan to free her mother at the same time. The thing was, in the future she'd seen, her mother hadn't been part of the scene, which worried her. Of course, there were multiple positive reasons why this could've been – her mother wasn't there but still out of the tomb, her mother was around, perhaps on her way to where the scene in her flash-forward had been set – but she couldn't shake this feeling that perhaps her mother's freedom wasn't meant to be part of the future.

The more she tried to fathom out everything, the more agitated and impulsive she got. It got to the point where she'd snatched a couple of high school students – one of them a returnee – and had turned them, spending a good number of hours training them to be her eyes and ears before posting them around town, making sure they kept to the darkness, but weren't stupid enough to be caught by the ever watchful parade of deputies.

Perhaps she was being too intelligent about all of this. Perhaps there was an easier way of searching for something. She had an idea about how to get an extra pair of eyes searching, but she had to be delicate about the way she handled this. Placing too much importance on finding the Grimoire would raise suspicion; placing too little importance on it would mean she'd never find it. She had to raise enough interest in the Grimoire to get Jeremy finding it. Was there a way of doing that without involving him too much?

She decided to try and test this theory when they were hanging out around his house one afternoon.

Inadvertently, Jeremy actually provided the perfect way of broaching the subject. Whilst playing on his game console – and beating him, by the way – Anna kept up a patient façade as he ranted about this latest piece of homework he was being given in order to induct him back into the world of school.

"Alaric liked my last piece, but he said it was too general. Wants me to narrow the scope of it down," Jeremy said, pulling a face. "Giving that Mystic Falls is only really famous for its role in the Civil War, I don't think I'm going to be able to pull much of that area of history apart from how the loss of civilian life changed everything." He sighed. "I think I'd get more information from Jonathan Gilbert's journals than out of anything else."

Anna stiffened at the name.

"Jonathan Gilbert?" She eyed him. "An ancestor of yours I take it?"

Jeremy nodded.

"He was supposedly this crazy, kooky old inventor slash writer," he explained. "Wrote all about night demons and stuff – vampires, he called them – and other crazy stuff like that."

Anna felt a rush of excitement surge through her blood. Jonathan Gilbert used to write everything – and she meant _everything_ – in his journals. She'd tried reading the journals of every founding family member's ancestor in this town, hoping something could tell her where Emily Bennett's Grimoire would be. She hadn't thought about Jonathan Gilbert, although the name still caused her to get angry and upset, knowing he'd been the one to ultimately lock her mother away.

It was strange. Even though Jeremy knew nothing about vampires, about the true history of this town, she saw a flicker of Jonathan Gilbert in him. Maybe it was a gene all the Gilbert men shared, this sense of stubborn pride.

"Maybe it's not so crazy," she suggested, her tone careless enough to be read as playful. "Maybe it's all real."

"Vampires? Get out," Jeremy dismissed, grinning at her playfully. "Are you a believer?"

"Oh yes," she said, grinning back at him. "Not a believer in vampires per se, but it's a nice idea to think the world has its secrets same as the rest of us. Plus as a child I used to be fascinated by the idea of vampires. This was before Twilight came and made vampires completely lame, but, you know, to each their own..." She pulled a face. "I'd take Dracula over Edward Cullen any day."

"Isn't he a little old for you?" Jeremy teased, jabbing her playfully.

"That wasn't what I meant..." Anna coughed, signalling a change in discussion. "You know, I'd be fascinated to read what your ancestor wrote...if that would be okay?"

"Sure," Jeremy said, sounding surprised. "I don't think he romanticized them though, if that's what you're after. What I got from his writings was that he feared and loathed them, though why would you choose to write about something you abhorred?"

"I dunno," Anna said, shrugging, when in reality she knew.

Jonathan Gilbert – and the rest of the founding families, for that matter – liked documenting things like this down, to warn future generations about the dark, dangerous world they lived in, and the things they would have to do to protect the town.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I'll see if I can find that journal now whilst I still remember," Jeremy said, hoisting himself off the sofa, making sure to pause the game before he did so.

"Only because you're losing," she teased good-naturedly.

"Pfft, I'm letting you win," he countered fiercely. "You're a guest..."

"Garbage! You're just a sore loser. Just because I'm better than you..."

"Your modesty is one of my favourite things about you."

"And your ability to graciously accept defeat is my favourite thing about you," she returned, grinning.

Jeremy exited, giving her a parting smirk, and she took the time to swallow loudly, whilst at the same time feverishly trying to repress whatever it was she was starting to feel for him. Her plan was simple – to get her mother out of the tomb, no matter what, and Jeremy was a key role in that plan.

But, damn it, this was getting hard.

He seemed to possess the Gilbert charm but somehow she knew he was different. Sure, he didn't know about vampires, but even without that knowledge, he seemed so open minded, not quite set in his ways just yet. Perhaps that was the attraction.

She wasn't quite ready to buy into this fate thing just yet – she was still convinced a lot could change between now and the date the flash-forwards had foreseen – but a lot of the feelings she'd felt back then felt like stronger echoes of what she was beginning to feel right now. She didn't like being unprepared, she didn't like not having control of a situation.

Still, she could look at the bright side here. Jonathan Gilbert's journal was bound to tell her more than anybody else's had. He wasn't exactly someone who'd held back when it came to what he wrote about, and she was pretty sure his contempt and fear about vampires was a running theme throughout his journal.

Despite all that, however, Anna had this gut feeling something was going to go horribly wrong down the line.

She hated that feeling.

* * *

><p>Elena sat on the couch in the Boarding House, a cup of something hot pressed between her hands.<p>

_You're adopted. _

It didn't make any sense, but she could see the truth in Stefan's eyes.

She almost hated him for forcing that particular truth on her, but as he began to explain how he knew – all the research he'd done trying to ensure she wasn't Katherine – she felt her heart sink further and further into the chasms of reality.

"I wasn't able to find much on your mother," Stefan told her quietly. "But what I did find out was that you were dropped on the doorstep of your father's surgery. He and your mother decided to keep you, and they went to great lengths to cover up the fact you weren't actually their biological daughter."

Elena nodded numbly, accepting this explanation.

Stefan hesitated, before deciding to drop another bombshell on her.

"To be fair to your biological mother, she couldn't have left you in better hands. Your father was an honourable man."

Elena's head shot up at that.

"How do you know that? Have you met him?" she demanded, her lips pressed so hard together they almost appeared white.

"I was there the night your parent's car went over Wickery Bridge. I saw it go in, and I raced to help. Your mother was already gone, but I could get to your father only..." Stefan bit his lip, as if unsure how to proceed. "Well, he wouldn't let me save him until I'd gotten you out of the car."

Elena's bottom lip became to tremble, synchronised perfectly with the widening of her eyes as she processed this new information.

"Oh my God," she began to sob. "Nobody could understand how I made it out of the car." She put a hand across her mouth, stifling the strongest of her grief. "You saved me?"

Stefan nodded, looking as though he regretted telling her.

"I tried to save your parents, but it was too late. I left you where I knew people could find you, called for help, and then went," he said quietly, watching her closely.

She felt the tears fall down her cheeks, the grief of losing her parents suddenly feeling fresh, like their deaths had only just occurred. The whirlwind of emotions she felt winded her, and she felt all the strength being knocked out of her.

Still, she raised her head to stare at Stefan, her hand trembling as she lowered it from her mouth. She felt grateful he'd told her this, but the fact she'd had to practically drag it out of him said a lot. Had she not badgered him to be more honest, she wondered whether he would've ever told her about that, or continued letting her believe a lie.

"I'm sorry, Elena," he apologized. "There was never a right time to tell you, and how would I have even brought that up? I thought if Jenna knew, maybe she would be the one to tell you."

Elena sniffed, nodding weakly, too worn down by her emotions to try and argue with him.

"So how am I tied to Katherine?" she demanded. "We look alike, Stefan, I saw the photograph."

Stefan looked as though he was dying to steer this conversation elsewhere – and there was something in his eyes which told her he either needed to hunt, or something else was driving him to distraction (maybe both) – but he reluctantly decided to tell.

"I didn't find much," he confessed. "I don't know if there's even a tie there, whether you're related or not..."

"Stefan. We look identical," Elena snapped. "Don't try and chalk this up to coincidence because it's not."

She wasn't quite sure if she was referring to looking like Katherine, the blackout, or a combination of both.

"Like I said, I wasn't able to dig up much on your biological mother. If I knew her name, maybe I could find out some more information, but as such I don't have a lot to tell you," Stefan said, sounding sympathetic.

She nodded. "Well, thanks for being honest."

"You were right. I wasn't being honest. I let my vision – or lack of a vision – change me. I've lived a long time. Part of the appeal of this life is knowing death isn't going to come, and so when I knew there was a chance I was going to die, it freaked me out." Stefan ran a weary hand through his hair. "Sometimes I wonder whether I should've died the night I was turned. Believe it or not, we choose whether or not we transition, and I chose wrong."

"You chose to become a vampire?" Elena sounded incredulous. "Why not?"

"A lot of reasons, all of them equally as selfish as the next," he replied. "I'm not ready to tell you about my past, Elena. I know I should be, especially after what I put you through, but I can't talk about it."

Elena looked as though she was going to argue, but the argument died on her tongue. She didn't want to press him for information he was unwilling to give, and she had to accept the fact he'd been honest with her enough for one evening.

"I miss this Stefan," she told him simply. "The one who could be honest and not try to hide from me."

"Me too."

She walked slowly towards him, wiping away the last of her tears. She cautiously locked her arms around him, holding him tight, wanting to assure him he wasn't alone, wanting some assurance he wasn't going to break down on her.

His lips found her neck, the very spot which could make her go weak at the knees.

She tried to protest, tried to make some sort of sign that just because they'd made progress didn't mean she was ready to get back together with him. Like a ship, she had to know there was a bigger chance their relationship would stay afloat rather than sink after one collision along the choppy waters of life.

But, still, when you loved someone, their very touch inspired something inside you, and maybe that was why Elena found it difficult to try and push Stefan away.

For a few minutes, she allowed him to indulge himself, closing her eyes, barely hiding a smile, until she suddenly felt his teeth graze against her skin, a motion which pulled her sharply into reality.

"Stefan - " she began, sounding frightened.

He didn't seem to hear her, and he began sucking against her skin.

"Stefan..." Elena began again, giving a sharp cry of pain when his teeth dug in further.

He still didn't respond, and he seemed a little too lost in what he was doing to even notice she was in pain.

"STEFAN!" she finally roared, pushing him off.

When she stepped back, she gave a double take.

Gone were the sincere eyes she'd fallen for, gone was the quiet smile which told her he really did love her, and gone were the traces of someone who was in complete control of their blood addiction.

Stefan seemed to zone out, his fingers carefully wiping the edges of his mouth, something red staining his very fingertips.

When they realized simultaneously what he'd done, two sets of eyes snapped together, two different emotions playing heavily in both.

"You – You bit me," Elena said, sounding horrified.

The hungry look didn't vanish right away. Instead, he seemed to freeze, his eyes scrutinising her carefully, not as a loving boyfriend but like a predator examining his prey.

When he stepped towards her, Elena backed away, fear swelling inside her chest.

"Please..." she begged. "Snap out of it, Stefan."

"The blood..." He held out his hand, the drops he'd picked up from his lips slowly spreading across his palm like a stain across a sheet. "It's too much."

His face changed, prompting her to do the first stupid thing of the day.

She ran.

But he was faster, and he pinned her against the wall, and she let out a horrified scream, which seemed to snap him out of his blood induced fever. He blinked rapidly, stepping back as he watched her face crumple.

It took him a few moments to work out what he'd done, and when the penny had dropped, he felt his entire demeanour change.

"Elena," he moaned, looking pained. "I - "

But she slid past him, bursting into frightened tears as she ran out of the house, colliding into Damon who was strolling confidently up towards the path.

"Elena?" he said, confused.

"Please... Let me go!" she shouted, but he gripped her arms, shaking her slightly.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

Elena scrunched up her face.

"It's Stefan... He bit me." She gestured to the still bleeding nip along her neck. "I need to get out of here. Let me go."

Damon released her instantly, turning to watch her fly out of sight. He stood there for a few moments, mostly debating whether to kick Stefan's ass now or later, but he finally decided to venture into the Boarding House.

"Oh, brother," he sighed, wandering into view, noticing his brother seemed to be wrestling with himself, a few moments shy of curling up into a ball in the middle of the room. "I thought I was meant to be the villain and you the annoying self-righteous hero? Well, you've really gone and screwed things up haven't you?"

* * *

><p>Klaus strode in to the apartment he'd quickly claimed for his own – a temporary shelter until after the sacrifice – and approached Maddox.<p>

"Any luck finding the moonstone?"

Maddox pulled a face.

"It's like searching for a needle in a stack of needles. If I had something to go on, I could use a locator spell, but right now, it's looking fruitless."

Klaus gave a frustrated growl.

"Calm yourself down, Klaus. You'll give yourself a heart attack," came a snarky voice.

He whirled around, glaring at his prisoner who sat coyly on the couch, her legs crossed, her arms folded, so that if her eyes didn't reveal her smugness, her body language did. Even in his grasp, she still possessed the spirit of her ancestors before her, and he wasn't quite sure whether to admire that or loathe it.

"Not sure you're in a position to be making those catty comments, Katerina," he said wryly.

"Oh, please. Katerina is too formal." She flashed him a pearl white grin. "Call me Katherine."

"You hide your fear well, but I have 500 years to break you, and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it."

A flash of fear rippled across her face, which he immediately savoured.

"You have any idea where the moonstone is, sweetheart?" he asked, changing tactics.

"Not a clue," Katherine replied honestly.

He sped towards her, fixing his eyes on her, trying to compel the truth out of her.

"Is that true?"

"Yes it is."

"I believe you believe that, but who do you know who _might _possess it?"

Katherine blinked, startled by the question.

"I don't know anyone who'd want it. What would I want a stupid rock for?"

"Because you know it's your leverage," Klaus told her, his smug grin fading. "I'm sure I know the real reason for you returning to Mystic Falls, and it isn't to play happy families with the Salvatores."

"You've heard of them?" Katherine enquired, keeping her tone casual.

"Oh yes. I know they held your heart once upon a time, and now they have both set their sights on the lovely Elena." He leaned towards her. "That must hurt, right Katerina? They got over you fairly quickly."

"Sure. I mean, a hundred and forty five years is what I'd certainly call a quick period of time to get over someone," Katherine remarked dryly.

Klaus chuckled.

"Oh, I will enjoy our time together. Something tells me you don't easily break, but I have my instruments of torture." He turned to Maddox. "You know what you can do for me, in lieu of retrieving the moonstone?"

"What's that?"

Klaus sent a spiteful look in Katherine's direction.

"I want you to bring the younger Salvatore brother... Stefan was it...to me, think you can manage that?"

Katherine stiffened, the first traces of vulnerability exposed on her face.

"You dare..." she snarled. "Leave Stefan out of this. He's not your problem."

"No, but I daresay he will be," Klaus lazily remarked. "He holds favour with the lovely Elena, and as soon as I find that moonstone, she is mine, and he might present a problem in the nearby future."

Katherine suddenly became impassive, barely flinching even as he rested his hand underneath her chin, grinning broadly at her.

"See, you claim to be tough, Katherine, but everyone has a weakness, a loved one, and yours just so happens to be a mere five minutes away."

She didn't waver, not even when he walked away. She held her chin up high, waiting until both Maddox and Klaus had left the room before her face gave away her emotions.

She felt torn with fear, sick with anger, and fuelled with fury.

If it weren't for the fact she'd been compelled to stay, maybe she could've escaped, possibly kidnapped Stefan for the ride – screw that pathetic, weepy, clingy Elena – all the while trying to convince him her love for him had been real, that this rescue attempt was proof at that, but she knew even if she could've escaped, the one thing she could never do was persuade Stefan to stay on the run with her.

And that doppelgänger of hers was to blame.

And now she needed to figure out a way to get free before her vision came true and Stefan ended up buried six feet under.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Warning, there will be a character dying in the next chapter. Hope you liked the dynamic between Elena/Stefan/Damon this chapter. There's a reason Damon and Elena are being built up slowly. They've not shared a lot of scenes in the past few chapters but don't worry. I can promise a big Delena moment next chapter. I know this says Delena but it sort of features everyone lol. :D anyway thanks for being patient with me. I envy those writers who can update regularly lol.**


	17. Burning Desires

Chapter 17: Burning Desires

* * *

><p>Jenna pushed herself up on the bed, groaning as a sudden bout of pain hit her. She wriggled, desperate to find some sort of movement which didn't physically wound her, but after coming to the conclusion there was probably a reason behind the doctor's advice - "Get some rest, and try to keep as still as you can," - she sat back, settling for a position which elevated her body, but at the same time gave it enough slack so she could start the recovering process.<p>

Elena had yet to come visit her, which she found quite strange, but then again she wasn't exactly in a position to be seen. She was a mess – emotionally and physically. She tried to be strong, tried to be grateful for the fact she was alive, but it just felt like a bit of a hollow victory.

Jenna found herself taken by surprise, however, when the nurse assigned to her room popped her head in, announcing she had a visitor. Her surprise inflated when her visitor turned out to be Alaric, armed with a bunch of beautiful flowers.

"Ric," she greeted, the shock evident in her voice. "How did you - ?"

"Jeremy told me," Alaric replied sheepishly. "How does one accidentally stab one's self?"

"You're talking to the woman who once burned pasta. I think that answers your question," Jenna grumbled, but her mood had been brightened by the change in routine. "Still, even for me, that was a stupid thing to do. I don't even remember what happened."

"You don't?"

"I fell to the floor pretty hard, probably knocked my head equally as hard," Jenna responded, looking unconcerned. "I'm not surprised I managed to bump out those memories with my extraordinary level of clumsiness."

Alaric chuckled, but there was a look of genuine concern in his eyes, and she found herself touched he'd been concerned enough to come here.

"You heard from Elena?" she had to ask. "She's not come here yet..."

"Sure she's just caught up in teen drama," Alaric said breezily. "But if I see her, I'll get her to come here."

"Thanks." Jenna leaned back, closing her eyes. "I'm boring today, just thought I'd warn you."

"You can be boring all you like, just try to stay away from kitchen utensils," he joked in response.

Jenna opened one eye, her lips twisted into a mock scowl.

"You're beginning to sound like Jeremy who, once he'd known I was going to be live, took the time to mock me endlessly for accidentally stabbing myself. I advise you give him tons and tons of homework. The kid needs something to focus on other than maintaining that emo look."

Alaric grinned, on the outside looking calm and relaxed, whilst on the inside trying to maintain some sort of order.

He had no idea why he was reacting this way, especially to a woman who he may or may not have had a connection to in his flash-forward, but he knew she was something special. Feelings he'd never thought he'd be feeling again after Isobel were slowly starting to resurface, and, to be honest, he had no idea what to do with them.

"Have the doctors given you anymore information about, you know, getting pregnant?" Alaric asked, mightily uncomfortable with asking.

She shifted, as though sensing the question was an awkward one.

"They haven't completely ruled out me getting pregnant the natural way, but the tone they used to tell me that suggests only a miracle would let me have baby Miranda." She caught Alaric's confused stare. "It was my sister's name. I've never been good at picking names, but Miranda – I don't know, it felt right. I miss her every day, and she would've known how to handle this – everything – and so being lodged in a crap situation, in a crap world that is really bad at handling crap situations, well it makes me wonder how she'd be handling it."

Alaric gave her a quiet smile, a smile tinged with the sadness only associated with people who've felt such a painful loss and lived through it. He'd only seen Jenna a few times, and he was determined to put the flash-forward out of his mind as it only complicated matters further, but he was starting to feel something for her, and he almost feared it in a way, because his feelings for Isobel were still alive and lingering in the back of his mind, reminding him constantly that he would always have that piece of baggage to carry around with him throughout any relationship he might've tried to have maintained.

"I'm not being funny, Jenna, but why do you really want this baby?" he asked, keeping his tone gentle. "You just don't strike me as the mothering type."

Jenna spluttered, nodding fervently.

"I know right? But whether or not my vision was supposed to come true or not, it got me broody. I mean, Jeremy and Elena are a handful, but that's just the awkward teen phase. I hear the baby phase is supposed to be cute."

"So you call all the crying, all the pooping, all the tantrums cute do you?" Alaric raised an eyebrow. "Boy, did I misjudge you..."

Jenna snorted with laughter, and it shifted the atmosphere from sombre to light-hearted within seconds.

The skidding of trainers against the polished hospital floors caused them to simultaneously lift their heads towards the door, a skittish looking Elena lingering by the door.

"Hey," she said quietly, leaning against the door. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Jenna admitted, fidgeting against the itchy blankets provided. "How are you?"

"You're the one in hospital, Jenna. I should have got here sooner, I just - " Elena bit her lip. "I kind of freaked out. Hospitals just... I mean the last time I was in here - "

"Oh, God, don't." Jenna looked mortified. "I'm sorry. I know it's hard to be here after your parents..."

"I shouldn't have brought it up." Elena hurried over to Jenna's bed, taking her aunt's trembling hand in hers. "Look I'm here now. And I brought cookies, since I know how much you hate hospital food."

"You got that right," Jenna grumbled. "My cooking's more bearable. Gimme."

Elena chuckled, retrieving the cookies from her backpack.

Jenna scrunched up her eyes, wondering if it was just her imagination that was causing her to imagine the red patches on Elena's cheeks, or the dark circles under her eyes. Perhaps it was all the medication causing her to see the chew marks along her niece's fingernails, a clear indication of stress, but she couldn't help but get the feeling there was something bugging Elena, something she wasn't letting on. And she was sure Elena never wore a scarf inside – was she covering something up?

But when she bit into the cookie Elena had given her, all thoughts about everything else flew out of the window.

"Heaven," she moaned, chewing the cookie contentedly.

Elena and Alaric laughed.

If nothing else, Jenna was a survivor, and for that they were grateful.

* * *

><p>Anna carefully made her way through the cemetery, searching for Giuseppe's headstone. The journal Jeremy had lent to her had confirmed what she'd begun to suspect – that the journal, like many other secrets he'd known, had been taken to Giuseppe Salvatore's grave.<p>

She found it within minutes, and it was convenient for her that it was located right in the woods, just out of sight of the others. Time had weathered away most of the name, but she could still pick out the name Salvatore on it.

Plunging her spade into the ground, Anna dug quietly, aware she had to be quick and quiet. It was a risk pulling off this operation at dusk, but, hell, she had the gift of speed on her side here. Sure, enough, within moments, she'd broken through to the casket itself, taking an almost sickening amount of pleasure in robbing the ancestor of the Salvatore brothers' grave.

She found the Grimoire and barely concealed her glee.

Repressing the urge to hug it to her chest, Anna instead opened it up, examining it with unconcealed interest. There were various spells there – that was to be expected – but no content page, which made the job a bit more tedious.

"Anna?" hissed a voice, which made her jump, causing the book to snap shut.

"Ben?" She recognized the obnoxious tone to his voice, the tone all jocks, former or present day, seemed to possess. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you. I saw you heading into the woods with a spade. Thought I was losing my mind."

Anna leaped out of the grave, dusting herself down before addressing one of the students she'd turned. His name was Ben, apparently a returning student, and a former jock, who worked at Mystic Grill – the hotspot for teenagers and adults alike – and she'd turned him for a number of reasons, the main one being he seemed to have no prospects as a human. She'd almost felt sorry for him, and the fact he was a brunette had certainly piqued her interest in him – she had such a weakness for brunettes.

But his curious streak was a downside to him. He'd attached himself to her, and she'd found it hard to shake him off at times. He complained at her that she babied him, but he wasn't making it easy for her to trust him. The first few hours after the transition, he'd ran off, which had made it so much harder for her to concentrate on finding the Grimoire.

"I found what I was looking for." She held up the Grimoire for him to see. "Took me a while, but I found it."

"It's a dusty old book," Ben pointed out, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "What's the appeal?"

She hit him with the book, rolling her eyes.

"It's a book of spells, moron. Should list the one which is going to help me bust my mother out of the tomb."

"But you're not a witch," Ben said, looking confused.

Anna threw him a scathing look.

"I know that. But luckily, I know someone who _is. _Bonnie Bennett."

"Bonnie Bennett?" Ben smiled. "I remember her. The one with the kooky grandmother?"

"That's the one. Anyway, I need you to ask her out. Charm her. Then kidnap her and bring her to me."

"Right..." Ben said doubtfully. "Why do I need to do that again?"

"Because she's not going to co-operate with me if I go up and ask her," Anna snapped. "She needs some kind of incentive to behave."

"We could kidnap her best friend or something," Ben suggested eagerly. "Gives her extra motive to behave."

Anna chewed her lip, remembering how that had gone last time. Could she really afford to lose another set of eyes and ears on this town?

"No, we leave the Gilbert girl out of this," she eventually decided. "I've got better ways of convincing the Bennett witch to help."

* * *

><p>Ducking out for some fresh air, Elena never realised how painful it would be going back to that hospital. The memories were still fresh, and she almost felt a wave of dizziness at remembering that night.<p>

So much had changed since then. Her world had skipped from one calamity to another, never daring to give her so much as a hint of breathing space to recuperate. Maybe that was the way it was meant to be, if such thing as fate even existed.

"Elena," came an all too familiar voice.

She turned, almost relieved to see Damon there, his brow furrowed with concern. She'd called Bonnie and Caroline, who both promised to come down when they'd dealt with their own individual dramas, but she still felt herself relaxing a little at the sight of a familiar face. She'd never been much good at coping with stress from all sides all by herself.

"How's Jenna?" Damon asked, stopping in front of her.

"You got her here just in time," Elena said, sounding tired. "The doctors said one more minute and she might not have..." She changed the subject promptly, deciding not to finish that sentence, however hypothetical it now seemed to be. "What's happening with Stefan?"

"I gave him an entire lecture, complete with slides and a puppet show, about why he has no right to steal the role of badass vampire from me, but I think he's working through a lot more than just what he'd done to you," Damon sighed, pulling a face. "This flash-forward crap has screwed up the entire world. Some visions are set to come true, if you believe the news." He rolled his eyes. "And why would the news report anything false or ridiculously absurd?"

"Tone down the judgement, Damon," Elena wearily advised. "It's not like they have experts on this sort of thing to refer to. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Any information about the blackout is bound to be reported, regardless of whether or not it's true."

"True, but it's sending everyone into a frenzy."

She gave him a strange look.

"Since when do you care about everyone else?"

He didn't react to that.

"I don't," he said dismissively. "Do you know how many conversations I've had to mentally remove myself from because they revolved around that stupid blackout? I hate it. It's all getting ridiculous now."

Elena decided against lecturing him on his sensitivity levels, and settled on being glad he was here to support her (assuming that was why he was here of course) in her hour of need.

"Jenna's vision revolved her having a baby. Did you know that?" she told him softly.

Damon started at that, looking shocked.

"Really? Jenna the mama? Hm, I can see it..."

She ignored his comment.

"Yeah, well, that stab wound effectively stopped that from happening, so I guess that can prove the future can change."

"Unless she manages to get knocked up regardless. I've seen stranger things happen."

She didn't answer for a moment, noticing Damon seemed to both cling to and abhor the idea of his vision coming true – well, _their _vision, to accurately put it – and the fact he disagreed with her conclusion regarding Jenna's vision said a lot about him and where he was in this moment in time.

She couldn't see it, personally. She couldn't see a future with her and Damon and the one she had seen had looked too surreal, too set up, almost. He appeared to have undergone a personality transplant of some description, because the way he'd looked at her, the way he'd kept her in his sights, had been completely surreal. It felt almost uncomfortable, the depth of love she'd seen in his eyes, and what made it all the more surreal was how she somehow knew, without looking, the same emotion was written in her own eyes.

"How are you, anyway?" Damon asked, giving her the concerned look which always managed to throw her completely off-guard.

"Coping," was the best answer she could come up with on the spot, and even then it didn't feel genuine.

"Not an answer, Elena," Damon pointed out, his lips twisting into a wry smile.

She considered that for the briefest of moments.

"Okay, I'm hurting," she answered. "I'm angry that I let my guard down around Stefan, even when I knew he was completely freaking out over his flash-forward – or lack of one, should I say. I'm worried about Jenna, because I think it's blatantly obvious she didn't stab herself at all. I'm sick of being scared. I'm... " She tried to sum up her somewhat overly defensive comment as best she could. "I'm not quite sure which ones of those emotions suits me best at the moment. They're all screaming at me."

"So you're conflicted," Damon surmised succinctly.

She restrained herself from rolling her eyes at his predictable conclusion, and instead chose to focus on the fact he also didn't appear to look like himself. He seemed worn out, still snarky, with a list of comebacks to rival any other, but it just seemed like he was less intent on causing mayhem, but rather on dealing with it.

"How about you?" she asked, pushing aside her own problems for the moment. "How are you doing?"

"Superb," Damon said sarcastically, rubbing his forehead. "Like the world isn't crazy enough, now I've gotta deal with a psychotic ex and - " He paused, as if suddenly aware he was revealing too much about himself. "Never mind."

"Have you seen Katherine lately?" Elena asked, worried. "Will she come after me do you think?"

"Probably," Damon said bluntly. "We'd be foolish to think she'll leave you alone, particularly since you currently have digs on her man." He gave a low chuckle. "Or is that still the case after Stefan's little meltdown episode?"

Elena shook her head. "Can we not talk about that? I'm still reeling from the fact that the one person who swore he'd never hurt me did just that."

He stepped forward, closing the gap between them, his eyes locking with hers, something unidentifiable written in his eyes. She so desperately wanted to find the humanity there, but a part of her was scared. Scared of making that flash-forward come true. Scared of what she'd be known as if she fell for another man. Scared of everything that came with liking Damon.

Maybe he knew that. Maybe he could sense it, the way he could sense blood from a mile off. He certainly seemed to be looking at her in a way she hadn't quite understood before.

A part of her knew she should be pushing him away. She was tired, upset, worried and hurt. None of that felt like the basis for letting someone in. But something about her vision had felt so appealing, so easygoing even though she knew there was no way in hell a relationship – platonic or otherwise- with Damon would feel like that all the time. He could be brutish at times, blunt with his honesty – sensitivity was not a word one would use to describe him, and he seemed okay with that – and there were moments when his smug smile drove her crazy, almost like he knew was an insensitive pain in the ass and enjoyed lording that fact over her.

His electric blue eyes perused her like they would over the fascinating words in a novel. There was certainly something passing between them, but she couldn't define it and that scared her too. His eyes fell to her lips then landed back on her eyes again, in a quick movement she almost missed because she happened to be doing the exact same thing.

It was some sort of game, but decidedly one without any winners or losers. It seemed to be a game of survival, about who could maintain their composure for the longest time without breaking gaze.

In the end, she lost. She broke gaze, looked away, not sure whether she'd been chased off by the intensity of his stare, or the fact she'd considered herself someone strong before this moment had occurred, only for him to give her one soft stare and her entire body had turned to liquid, unable to function properly.

"How about I drive you home?" he suggested, keeping his tone even.

She nodded, too worn out to try and convey to herself all the reasons why that seemingly perfect idea just wasn't worth the effort in the long run.

"Sure," she smiled, trying her best to find the Elena she knew who could survive anything, rather than this weak willed, insecure girl who'd taken her place. "I'd love that."

* * *

><p>Alaric felt himself yawn loudly as he exited the hospital.<p>

Despite the fact visitors were given a designated period of time to stay in the hospital with the person they'd come to see, he'd been in and out all day, mostly fuelling up on coffee.

He couldn't remember ever doing that for Isobel, although, come to think of it, the only hospital encounter he remembered her having had been when she'd had her appendix removed, and rather than freaking out about the various risks and health hazards which went along with having surgery, she'd asked a lot of, frankly, weird questions beforehand. They had ranged from the sensible - _"Are there any side effects I should be expecting after the operation? Like aches and pains?" - _to the weird - _"Is blood transfusion ever necessary with an operation like this?" _- to the insane - _"If I die during surgery, what are the chances of successful resuscitation?" _

What had probably freaked him out most was that her questions had revolved around blood or death, which was probably a sign he should've noted to himself, not that he would've been able to do much about it, except trying to steer her clear of her obsession with vampires. Then maybe she wouldn't have run into one, resulting in her death.

Alaric hated that his memories – his very life – with Isobel were tainted now. He couldn't see anything but that particular memory of stumbling into their house, watching that filthy, raven haired man attack her neck with a frightening amount of passion.

It still haunted him, which was why he'd probably found what had happened to Jenna so disturbing...and why he didn't believe the cover story provided that she'd stabbed herself by accident.

He knew he had to confront that Damon Salvatore at one point, but it was just a matter of timing. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do when he confronted him. Several ideas popped into mind, but the one which seemed to recur the most ended in violence. A lot of violence.

The sound of footsteps drew him out of his temporary funk, but he turned around and saw the very person who seemed to be dominating his thoughts, and it threw him completely.

"You're Alaric," Damon greeted him, swaggering arrogantly forwards. "Jenna's friend."

"That's right. You're Damon. Elena's friend," Alaric returned, keeping his tone even.

Damon's lips twisted into a smirk.

Alaric felt himself shake with rage, but did his best to reign it in.

"I just drove Elena home, in case you're wondering," Damon said casually.

"So why are you back?" Alaric couldn't help but challenge.

Again, the smirk presented itself, and again it infuriated him to the point where violence seemed the likeliest outlet for his anger to come out through.

"You seem tense around me," Damon noted. "I noticed it the night we met, but I wasn't quite sure."

"And now?" Alaric asked, his fists clenched by his sides.

"First, I gotta ask – did I screw with your girlfriend or something? You have that look."

"Oh, you could say that, but I think it went beyond screwing," Alaric said, his voice taut with barely suppressed rage.

Damon's eyebrows sky-rocketed into his hairline.

"Interesting. Enlighten me, please. My memory is terrible."

That insensitive remark was enough to light the fuse on Alaric's temper. He charged forwards, bellowing something nondescript, before punching Damon hard in the face, the resultant force causing the younger man's head to snap to one side.

"That bad huh?" Damon panted, his eyes lighting up with an eager kind of energy.

"You killed my wife!" Alaric growled at him, bracing himself to hurl another punch.

"I've killed a lot of people," Damon remarked coldly. "I'm not going to pretend otherwise. You obviously know what I am."

"You're a monster!" Alaric spat at him.

"I'm hurt by that," Damon pouted.

He struck out, his hand locking itself around Alaric's throat, using his position to steer them both into the shadows, away from any eyes that may have been watching.

"My wife's name was Isobel," Alaric choked out, desperate for some tangible sign he wasn't wrong about Damon being Isobel's killer. "We were living in North Carolina. She was young, dark haired - "

"Ah..." Recognition dawned in Damon's eyes. "The beautiful Isobel. She never mentioned she was married." He grinned wickedly. "Didn't stop us making some beautiful love on your bed."

Alaric roared, his heart plummeting at what he'd not even considered to be a possibility.

"She begged me to do it you know."

"What, kill her?"

There was a pause, in which Damon considered Alaric carefully.

"You don't know? Your wife isn't dead, you moron. I turned her!"

A beat passed, and then Alaric began shaking his head vehemently, determined to deny that truth from sinking in.

"You're lying."

"I don't lie," Damon said coldly. "It's actually one of the few commandments I _don't _break funnily enough."

"Does Elena know what you are? _Who _you are?" Alaric challenged, finding enough strength to push Damon off of him. "Does she know you're a monster?"

He could see he'd struck a nerve. Damon's eyes flashed with a chilling coldness which should've been the sign which told him to run. Run, and not look back. But he'd come too far to back down now.

"You know, because I like you, Ric, and because I don't see you and me coexisting harmoniously in this town, I'm going to do both of us a favour, and save us both the trouble of a war we clearly don't have time for," Damon told him, smiling briefly before speeding forwards to snap Alaric's neck, barely showing any emotion as he watched the older man crumple before him.

Before he dragged the body to his car parked nearby, Damon had just enough time to note the ugly ass ring the teacher was wearing, his curiosity barely piquing at the quite old design on it, before he carried his latest casualty away into the night.


	18. Sheer Abandon

Chapter 18: Sheer Abandon

* * *

><p>Damon returned to the Boarding House unusually sombre. Like always, he directed himself towards the liquor, pouring himself a glass as he contemplated his current situation. Alaric's body was currently on the back seat of his car, and though carting dead bodies around was by no means an unusual situation for him, he couldn't help but think on one point – and one point <em>alone <em>-the now dead teacher had got to him.

What would Elena think if she knew the lengths he went to protect himself, to rid himself of any potential threats? It was with a beast-like brutality he'd snapped the teacher's neck, which in a way was a shame, because rarely was it that he found someone he could, in theory, have respected. Not as an equal – God, no – but in the same way a predator respects his prey for fighting back...before promptly ending its pathetic little life.

Then again, he wondered if there was another motive entirely behind the kill.

He'd heard Alaric and Jenna talking about their visions, and the fact Alaric had had one seemed to intrigue him, because he shared no particulars about said vision. Damon wasn't one to dwell on matters he really couldn't give a damn about but, in a way, his actions tonight had almost been like he was giving the finger to fate by changing the course of action another individual had been bound on.

Was it fair? No, but then again it wasn't fair for the entire world to have blacked out, leaving him with a vision which was both tantalising and tormenting at the same time.

He realized quite quickly that the glass he'd been holding had shattered in his hand, which meant his Persian rug was now stained with alcohol. Sighing loudly, he decided either he needed to compel himself a year's supply of glasses – for some reason, a lot of them had been broken, or smashed, or had simply spontaneously disintegrated in his grip over the short time he'd been in Mystic Falls – or he needed to find a better outlet for his anger. One of the two, anyway.

"Here," came a familiar voice, a new glass filled to the top with alcohol in his hand at once.

Damon barely looked at Stefan, barely even acknowledged him for the moment.

"I did something stupid tonight," he said slowly.

Stefan gave an irritable sigh.

"Who'd you kill? Or turn?"

Damon turned, his lips twisting into a smile which could've bordered on amused had he put the effort into it. As such, it looked more like the offspring of a grimace and a smirk.

"Why must you assume _something stupid _involves some sort of murder on my part? I might've called Elena Katherine, or something equally as trivial as that."

"It's you, Damon," Stefan said bluntly. "Cut the crap and just be straight for once in your life. Who did you kill?"

"That Alaric guy," Damon responded, not sure whether he liked Stefan's tone. "Oh, don't give me that judgey look. The guy was better off dead anyway. Carried too much baggage around, and he knew what we were. I've just bought us some more time in this town. You should be thanking me!"

Stefan shook his head.

"A leopard never changes its spots," he said, looking disgusted. "Where's his body?"

"In my car." Damon necked back his drink. "Have at it. I don't give a damn what you do with it, just make sure it's out of there before it starts to stink up my car."

"So that's it? That's the way Damon chooses to express himself these days?" Stefan burst out, frustrated. "I get I'm no picnic these days, but how about you cut the crap and just admit you _care_?"

"How about you stop worrying about me and worry about yourself?" Damon snarled, glaring at his brother. "Seems to me the only one you should be worrying about having a meltdown is yourself. You're calm as can be one moment, and then the next you're attacking your girlfriend? You're about as stable as a rickety bridge."

Stefan frowned.

"Thanks for the analogy, Damon. It's cute, but I'm fine. I'm under control."

Damon's lips curled into an unmistakeable sneer.

"Denial is a fine place to live in, brother, but the longer you stay there, the longer you're going to believe reality is the fiction," he pointed out, pouring himself another drink. "You are so stupid if you believe you're under control. You're not. I'm not. Blood will always be the dominant factor in our lives – the question is, brother, how long can you keep up the pretence that it's not?"

Stefan mirrored his sneer.

"You really want to talk about pretending? Really? Damon, either you're a better actor than I've ever given you credit for, or you care about Elena. More than you let on. And you pretend you don't because you think letting your humanity show is a sign of weakness."

Damon shook his head, unable to believe Stefan was analysing him like this. What was even worse was how close to the mark in his analysis he really was.

"Screw you. You have no idea what you're talking about," he said, trying his best to sound indifferent. "You're just angry that I'm taking better care of your girlfriend than you are."

"You know why I think that is? Because you know one day she'll be your girlfriend."

There was a moment then which felt tenser than any other moment Damon had ever experienced before. His eyes locked on Stefan's, their bodies tensed to fight, everything hinged on this moment playing out a certain way. He didn't know how to react, what to say, except he knew he wasn't going to let Stefan get away with such a cold remark like that.

"So she told you huh?" He gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, the irony of this moment."

"No irony," Stefan pointed out calmly. "I admit I reacted badly to hearing it, but you can understand why, can't you?"

"Sure," Damon said, lifting up a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "I can see why you'd throw a tantrum, Stefan. It's not like you've had everything I've ever wanted – father's approval, the love of Katherine, the personality of a saint, the ability to be able to do anything and get away with it..."

"You've made your point," Stefan snapped. "You made your choices, Damon. You chose to be bitter. You chose to be a monster."

"Really?" Damon threw Stefan a contemptuous look. "See, I don't remember choosing to turn. I don't remember choosing to be compelled by a woman who obviously felt nothing for me. I don't remember asking the world to black out so I could see a momentary glimpse of the life I've always wanted! Don't talk to me about choices, Golden Boy. I've never had them!"

He stormed out, allowing the cool air to slap him in the face, the rage still bubbling and boiling inside him. He wished he wasn't bitter, but it was hard not to hold on to that when his own brother was giving him a lecture on morality.

Elena was starting to get an idea of Stefan's dark side, but even she would always be blind to that evil streak in him that she found it so easy to see in him, and that was the unfair part in the whole situation.

He decided instead of ranting and raging and hurling abuse at someone who didn't deserve to be on the end of one of his tempers, he would opt for the calmer choice and go for a drive. God only knew he needed to put a little bit of distance between himself and this town, at least for a little while.

Something felt wrong the moment he approached his car. He stooped, searching for the familiar sight of Alaric's body draped across his back-seat, but when he realized nothing was there, he felt a cold shudder grip his body.

Either someone had moved the body, or he'd somehow lost his art of expertly killing people.

Either way, he had a bad feeling. A _really _bad one.

* * *

><p>"So, Bonnie is actually going on a date with this guy?" Elena asked, raising an eyebrow as she clutched her phone closer to her ear. "Good for her!"<p>

_"My thoughts exactly! He's cute from what I remember too. I'm so jealous. Apparently he 'accidentally' ran into her at the Grill and they got to talking. Ugh, I want a movie moment like that."_

Elena grinned. "Relax, Caroline. You'll get yours someday. What about Tyler?"

_"Oh, you had to bring him up didn't you? You always remember the things I don't want you to remember. For God's sakes, Elena..."_

"He came to the house earlier, so ease up on the lecture there, Care," Elena said calmly.

There was a pause.

_"What did he have to say? No... I don't want to know. Did he mention me then? Ugh, forget it. I don't care."_

Elena stifled a laugh behind her hand.

"He did ask after you, but I got the impression he seemed rather lost."

_"Gee, duh. Tyler is a tool. He doesn't have many friends and his parents, not being funny, could be the poster parents for how to screw your child up. But even without all that, he possesses a personality which could drive anyone insane."_

"But you care about him," she pointed out gently. "Otherwise you wouldn't be this irritated about him. We tend to vent about the people we secretly care about. Didn't you hear? Love and hate are virtually the same thing."

_"Yeah... well, you can get that whole love thing out of your head. Tyler was a dick to me. Unless he gets a personality transplant, there's no way I'm considering forming any relationship with him."_

Sighing, Elena decided to let the subject drop, sensing there were certain matters you just couldn't force Caroline Forbes to contemplate. Personally, she believed Tyler and Caroline could work as a couple – they shared similar personality traits after all – but she of all people was not going to play a hand in steering Caroline into making her vision come true if it wasn't something she wanted.

She still had conflicted ideas about her own, after all, and though she was trying her best to still live in the present, in the _now, _the future had this odd way of creeping up on her when she least suspected it, to the point where she'd found herself almost calling Damon just to at least discuss their shared vision.

But thoughts of Stefan had quickly doused that particular desire, because despite everything she worried about him. It was instinctual, habitual, and she felt like maybe the fact she'd been worrying so much about her and Damon's vision had contributed somewhat into breaking her relationship up.

It was funny, ironic certainly, but in trying to keep their relationship together in order to prevent the future from happening, their efforts had actually backfired, meaning whatever they'd tried to keep from falling apart had disintegrated through their fingers.

_"How are you anyway? I'm hogging the convo," _came Caroline's chatty voice.

"Fine. Well – no, I'm not," Elena confessed. "But I'm getting there. I'll be fine. How you handling all this vampire business anyway?"

_"It has its upsides. Twilight has it all wrong, though I'm almost sorry I don't sparkle. I think I could pull that look off."_

Elena grinned. "I know you could. I'm glad you're handling it anyway. I just want you to be okay."

_"Uh-huh. Well you and Bonnie are coming over for a sleepover the moment my mom stops hovering around me like some sort of overprotective bee - and she has no idea what I am, which I'm sure I can only keep from her for so long."_

"She's just worried about you."

_"Yeah, well, I'm worried about you, but that doesn't mean I'm glueing myself to you night and day. You would've thought she would've had more to do."_

"Mystic Falls was not too badly hit by the blackout though," Elena reasoned. "The worst of the damage is nearly repaired anyway. Mayor Lockwood is trying to help the town move on. I'm assuming he gave all the sheriffs and deputies the talk about keeping morale high, or whatever."

_"Hm... Might have a point there." _Caroline didn't really sound convinced. "_Anyway, gotta go. Got a ton of homework. Love ya!"_

"Back at ya, Care," Elena returned, smiling with affection.

She hung up the phone, feeling conflicted. Caroline and herself shared two quite similar problems, not just in the sense they had both experienced visions they couldn't quite wrap their head around – the whole world seemed to share their problem, and they would've been arrogant to assume they were the only ones suffering – but also because a part of them yearned for that feeling their visions had brought; it was a kind of warmth only associated with a fairly new, but still fervent, love, platonic or otherwise.

She'd not felt that in a while. Her relationship with Stefan, though she would die before admitting things between them had felt unstable long before the blackout, had been an experience, something she would never regret for as long as she lived.

But...

There was a finality to every point she could raise about them, and that saddened her, and a part of her longed to find a reason to fight for them. But the moment lies and dishonesty crept into a relationship, the quicker it fell. Hadn't she learned that from her various relationships before she and Matt had gotten together? Guys her age lied all the time, whether it was to hide a discrepancy, or to keep women satisfied.

She'd wanted to believe Stefan was the exception to that rule, but plainly he hadn't trusted her enough to share his darkest secret with her. To be fair, she'd kept her vision a secret, at least for a while, but there had been a good reason for that – Stefan's reaction sort of summed up why she probably should've kept it to herself.

Sighing loudly, Elena decided she needed to do something to distract herself.

Walking downstairs, she called for Jeremy, hoping against hope he was in one of those moods where he tolerated her company enough to want to hang out with her, even if it was only for a little while. She was surprised when he didn't answer, and even more surprised when she learned he wasn't even in the house.

It was almost depressing in a way that her little brother, formerly known as the loner of Mystic Falls, possessed more of a social life than she did.

A knock on the door pulled her away from her funk for the moment, and as she meandered her way down the hallway, her mind generating random thoughts left, right and centre, she began to wonder if what was happening between her and Stefan and Damon was possibly causing her to become ill. She certainly felt a headache coming on every time she tried to assess the situation for herself.

She opened the door, expecting... well, not really expecting anyone of any importance... and found herself staring at Alaric, who looked worn and haggard.

"Elena," he greeted, wheezing like he'd just run a marathon.

"Mr Saltzman?"

"Please... call me Ric," he told her. "I know Jenna's still at the hospital, but I was just wondering if I could come in for a while."

"Sure." She held open the door, allowing him to stumble in. "Are you okay?"

"Not really. Rough night," he confessed.

"Yeah, seeing Jenna like that just brought back some stuff for me," she agreed, oblivious to the flash of confusion in his eyes, otherwise she might've picked up on the fact he wasn't referring to seeing Jenna in hospital when he'd mentioned having had a rough night. "I'm sure she'll be okay."

"I know. I wanted to drop by, see if you were okay," Alaric said, giving her the once over. "You look as hellish as I feel, if I may be blunt."

"You're my teacher," she said wryly. "You're allowed to be blunt. And yes I probably do look hellish." She ran a hand through her hair. "I want to sleep, but I know I won't be able to."

"Listen, I know it's not my place to say," Alaric said cautiously, sensing this topic was one he had to tread carefully on. "But I need you to stay away from Damon Salvatore."

Elena blinked.

Whatever she'd been expecting him to say, that hadn't been on her list.

"Why?" she asked, realising she had to approach this subject with a lot of caution. "Did he do something to you?"

"Let's just say the guy is bad news," Alaric muttered, rubbing his neck absent-mindedly.

Elena didn't know what to say. She knew something had gone down tonight, but she couldn't exactly probe Alaric for details because she didn't know what he knew, even though from the sounds of things he knew _something_. Without confirmation, however, she knew she had to play this from the angle of a teenager unaware that the guy she'd been hanging out with was dangerous. Luckily, she'd been in that situation before, so knew exactly what arguments would and wouldn't work for an authority figure like Alaric.

"If he's done something bad, you need to tell me," she urged. "Damon has been a really good friend to me, so you'll understand why I can't do what you're asking me to do."

"Yeah, figured you'd say something like that." Alaric smiled wryly. "I suppose the threat of detention all year long wouldn't deter you by any chance?"

Elena shook her head, chuckling.

"Can I just ask why you think he's bad news?" she asked tentatively.

"I can't answer that," he told her. "Let's just say I had an encounter with him which showed me his...true colours, shall we say? I know I have no right to try and show any sort of parental concern for you, but - "

"I like it," she cut across him, smiling appreciatively. "I know you make Jenna happy, so I know you'll be sticking around a lot. I do appreciate the advice, Ric. I just can't take it, that's all."

Alaric nodded, figuring he would get this sort of response. He'd tried to approach this in a gentle way, because forbidding Elena to see Damon would both provoke her into verbally lashing out at him, and would damage his relationship with Jenna.

No, the best thing he could do was to keep an eye on her and Damon, see what passed between them, and the moment things got beyond control, he would step in and take out Damon, and deal with the awkward questions later.

"Okay, well, I was just in the neighbourhood," he said, his tone suggesting their conversation was over for the moment. "Here's my address in case anything goes wrong, or there are things you can't talk about with Jenna."

She took his card warily.

"You do realize giving me your address is asking for trouble right?" she said, a teasing smile unfolding on her face.

"I'm aware of the multiple options you have now you possess details of my personal life, yes," he said, smiling wryly. "I think you're a good kid, Elena. I'd hate you see you fall into the wrong crowd, that's all." He shifted awkwardly in the direction of the door. "Well, goodnight."

As Elena waved him off with a courteous smile, she couldn't help but chew over his words with a certain degree of wariness.

_"I'd hate to see you fall into the wrong crowd..."_

Seemed like that warning came a little too late.

….

Tyler tossed the football into the air before catching it, repeating the motion over and over, trying not to overthink things, and yet all he was managing to do was overthink. Throwing and catching the ball was meant to be therapeutic, yet all he seemed to do was remind him about how so much of his life seemed to be up in the air at the moment.

Take Caroline, for instance. He hadn't meant to snap at her, hadn't meant to overreact when she'd missed their...whatever you'd call it. He'd just been facing intense pressure from his parents to make key decisions he hadn't wanted to make, and this had all stemmed from the blackout; fuelled by fear, they'd increased the pressure on him to pick a path to go down, and from some of his father's comments, a political avenue seemed to be where they were hoping he'd go down.

Screw that.

He saw himself more in the athletic field, although his father assumed it was more of a hobby than anything else, otherwise he probably would've stopped him from training, and that would've been the proverbial straw which broke his back.

"Doing a little therapeutic throwing and catching there?" came a familiar voice. "Yeah...I've been there."

Tyler turned slowly, watching as a dark eyed figure came walking towards him. His eyes narrowed as he registered the tufts of light brown hair, the square jaw, and the athletic build that could all only fit one person he knew.

"Uncle Mason?" he called, frowning. "That you?"

Mason strode forwards, taking the ball from him, gesturing him to go back as they started a rally between them.

"Yeah, it's me. Didn't think I wouldn't check up on you now did you?" Mason said, grinning.

"The phone works," Tyler pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "You could've just rang. And it's taken you a while to visit hasn't it if this about checking up on us all?"

"I've had a lot of repair work to do. My place in Florida was absolutely wrecked," Mason explained. "Forgive me if that took priority over making sure you and your giant ego were okay."

"Don't forget where I inherited that ego from," Tyler chuckled, hurling the ball at him with a ferocious speed, but Mason didn't even so much as flinch as he caught it. "Where'd you learn to catch like that?"

His uncle grinned.

"You didn't really think I'd find a way of catching you up in size and strength after that game in the park?"

"That was ten years ago, Uncle Mason."

"Please, kid. Call me Mason already. Drop the Uncle – it makes me feel old."

Tyler laughed.

"So what are you really doing back here? Do my parents know - ?"

"I called ahead of time, don't worry," Mason assured him. "Think they're worried about you, which is why my pain in the ass brother didn't kick up such a big fuss about me hanging around you."

"He kicks up a fuss about anyone who might influence me to go over to the dark side," Tyler pointed out, rolling his eyes. "He's a monumental dick when it comes to my future."

"Watch your language. He's a monumental dick, sure, but he's still your father," Mason warned, only half-heartedly.

"Try living with him," Tyler muttered.

"I did," Mason countered. "For a lot longer than you, kiddo, so suck it up."

They spent a few moments in silence, taking in each other's appearance, quickening the pace in which they threw the ball back and forth.

"What did you see?" Mason suddenly asked, looking curious.

It kind of showed how screwed up the world was that Tyler didn't even have to ask what he meant by that. You could've asked that question to anyone and they would automatically know what you were referring to.

"Me and this girl I know. We were..." Tyler struggled to define what it was he and Caroline were, which Mason instinctively took as something rude.

"Doing the deed?" his uncle grinned.

"Ew. No," Tyler said, shaking his head. "We were hugging and stuff. Nothing more."

"But you wanted more?" Mason guessed.

"I guess," Tyler answered, sounding uncertain. "It felt like we were more than friends, at least on my part. I don't know how she really felt in hers."

"You talked to her about it?"

"Yeah, and we've been sort of hanging out, trying to see if there's anything there." He rolled his eyes. "Until _I _was the monumental dick and yelled at her for missing a date we'd arranged. I couldn't even help it, you know? Everything up until that point just rubbed me up the wrong way."

"Let me guess." Mason smoothly caught the ball, before hurling it back at such a speed it made Tyler stagger a little when he'd caught it. "You get these periods about once a month? Every little thing makes you angry, makes you want to lash out?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"It's the curse of being a Lockwood," Mason said, chuckling humourlessly. "Do you black out during these moments?"

"Sometimes." Tyler looked thoughtful. "It's like...I lose control." He pulled a face. "I hate it. I don't want to be this way."

"It's why it's called a curse, Tyler," Mason pointed out, smiling, although there was something meaningful to his smile Tyler couldn't figure out.

Then again, his uncle had always been a mysterious figure, never sharing more than the basic details of his life to anybody, not even his own flesh and blood. He'd always been like that, for as long as Tyler could remember, but it didn't bother him like it probably should've done. Uncles and aunts, though classed as family, typically ran in different circles in any family, but still he felt connected with Mason in the way he should've felt connected to his own father, which was why he felt nothing but cautious optimism at Mason's return.

If anyone could keep his father in check, it was his own brother.

After a few moments, Mason discontinued the rally, looking thoughtfully up at the house, his gaze speculative, as if a question had popped into his mind he had to really think about before asking.

"I know you're probably busy with your school work and stuff – or should be, because I doubt that's actually the case -," he began, grinning at the look on his nephew's face. "But I don't suppose you've seen a white rock around the house have you? It would be this big," he held out his hands to demonstrate the size, "and is quite light actually, for a rock."

"That's what you came back for? A rock?" Tyler asked doubtfully.

"No, but I figured while I was in the neighbourhood I'd try and find it. It has...sentimental value," Mason hedged. "You sure you ain't seen something like it around?"

"Not really," Tyler answered. "What'd you need it for anyway?"

"Like I said, sentimental value," Mason said, tossing Tyler back his football, turning on his heel to head towards the house.

"Wait," Tyler called. "Mason – what did you see?"

"I didn't see anything," Mason responded, half turning round. "Guess I was sleeping or something."

Tyler nodded, watching his uncle walk up the driveway to their house, his earlier feelings of excitement – well, that may have been a stretch – at Mason's return diminished somewhat by the sudden secrecy which had enveloped his uncle during that last portion of the conversation.

He did recall seeing such a rock actually, when he'd been looking through some old family artefacts hidden under a floorboard – he'd learned all his parents' hiding spots when he was twelve, but he wasn't going to tell them that – and remembered wondering what significance it had.

Now it had been brought to his attention once again, and this time he knew there was definitely a reason why it was hidden under the floorboards. Mason knew the reason, otherwise he wouldn't have asked after it, so to distract him from his other fruitless endeavours, Tyler made it his mission to find out what this rock's importance was.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Apologies for not updating this in ages. Kind of hard to be inspired these days when TVD is constantly having hiatuses lol. It's kind of a challenge this story because I'm bringing up all these different plot points which shouldn't really occur just yet if I was correctly following the canon storyline :P Some would say I'd brought this on myself, and they'd be right ha ha :P Anyway, not a lot of Delena so far, but there's another big scene coming up, so look forward to that. Also, I am aware I'm writing other characters rather than focusing on Delena and Forwood but everyone's visions sort of connect, in a weird sort of way, and believe me, though we are far from the last chapter, I have an ending planned which is either going to make you love me, or hate me, depending what your views on endings are lol! Thanks again for reviewing. *Fanfiction hugs for everyone***


	19. Paint The Truth With A Lie

Chapter 19: Paint The Truth With A Lie

* * *

><p>"You don't have to fuss over me," Jenna grumbled, as Elena, Matt and Jeremy carefully helped her into the house. "I may have <em>stabbed myself <em>but I'm not completely useless."

"No one's saying you are," Elena soothed. "We just think you need all the help you can get right now, until you're back on your feet again."

She let Matt and Jeremy guide Jenna to the couch before she went to the kitchen to unload the shopping she'd gone and picked up before heading over to the hospital to help check her aunt out of hospital. As she unloaded the various items, she looked up to see Jeremy staring at her, looking concerned

"What's up, Jer?" she asked lightly, noting the solemnity in his eyes.

"Aren't you even a little concerned as to how she managed to inflict that kind of damage to herself?" Jeremy enquired, keeping his voice low. "I know I joke about her being a terrible cook, but she's never been clumsy enough to stab herself. I mean, the physics alone seem completely unbelievable."

"Oh, so you do pay attention in school," she teased weakly, before adding, "I'm sure she was doing something in the kitchen, tripped and fell onto the knife. It happens."

"Yeah, in the movies. Not in real life." Jeremy shook his head. "I mean, I came back home after visiting Jenna in the hospital and there was nothing in the kitchen to suggest she'd even been there. It doesn't make sense."

"Leave it, Jer," Elena said, a little too sharply. "It was an accident, not foul play. Why would it be anything else?"

Jeremy narrowed his eyes.

"Do you know something?" he asked quietly.

She stared at him.

"What would I know exactly?"

"You were the one who found her," Jeremy pointed out.

"True, but if you're implying what I think you're implying, then you're suggesting I'm covering something up," she hissed. "I'm hurt you would even suggest that."

"Elena, I - "

"Save it, Jeremy," Elena cut across him wearily. "Why bother arguing? She's alive and she's home. That's all that matters."

She put away the last of the shopping, gave Jeremy a final firm looked, then headed for the front door, announcing she needed some fresh air. As she pulled back the door, however, she found herself staring at Damon, who gave her his usual cocky grin.

"Damon," she spoke, a questioning tone lilting her voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Sensing you need a distraction." He seemed to observe the tension on her face, because he then asked, "You okay?"

"Not really." She walked out, closing the door behind her. "I would say your timing is impeccable, but I'm quickly learning there's an ulterior motive to almost everything you say and do, so..."

"Astutely observed," he complimented. "How's Jenna?"

"Her usual self. Complaining about how clumsy she is, then getting irritated when Jeremy jokingly agrees with her," Elena sighed. "I talked to the doctor before she was checked out. According to her, the likelihood of Jenna being able to have kids is...slim to none, at best."

"So her vision..."

"... changed," Elena said, nodding solemnly, her eyes locking with Damon's as something unspoken passed between them. "That is assuming of course a miracle doesn't happen between now and May."

Damon felt grateful towards her for even extending that olive branch in his direction, if only briefly; it was like she was telling him there was always a chance, however slim, that things would pan out, but at the same time emphasising the word miracle seemed to suggest that was what it would take for his vision to come true, and it gave him a sharp stab (no pun intended) of reality.

"What was the real reason you came here?" she asked suddenly, throwing him a curve ball.

He shifted on the spot.

"You're not going to like it."

"More bad news?" She looked crestfallen. "I suppose it is a day for it..." In response to Damon's questioning look, she added, "Jeremy was asking me questions earlier regarding Jenna's accident. He's getting suspicious. It's only a matter of time before he finds out the truth."

"How? I compelled him to forget," Damon reminded her. "And even if the little punk does find out, what's he going to do exactly? Somehow, he doesn't strike me as the type to go all macho and seek revenge."

"No, but think about what I've made him forget, Damon. I've twisted his whole world into something it isn't. It might be better for him short term, but the thing about lies is that they have a horrible habit of coming undone before your eyes." She stared up at him. "What was your bad news anyway? I'm sorry for ranting; I just...worry."

"You worry too much about too many things," he replied lightly. "I'm surprised you're still standing."

"You and me both," she responded, grinning briefly.

"I wasn't going to tell you this until I was sure," Damon continued, looking hesitant, aware he was about to shatter her world (again). "And even after I knew, I still didn't want to bring you into this, but I think you need to know...Stefan's drinking human blood."

She blinked rapidly, processing this.

"What? How – How do you know?"

"He's not very subtle, my baby bro," Damon responded, rolling his eyes. "Leaving the lid on the freezer where the blood bags are kept was clue number one. His erratic behaviour, bordering on becoming violent, was clue number two. Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't seen the signs yourself, or aren't you two cosy anymore?"

She looked away.

"You forget, Damon, I haven't seen him slip up like you have. I have no idea what Stefan is even like when he's off blood. I don't have any experiences to compare it to. I get he's changed, but I figured the thought of him dying for real was the cause."

He snorted derisively.

"That's not what's freaking him out here, Elena. Stefan isn't one to dwell on mortality. He might be depressingly broody, but not _that _depressingly broody. No, if I had to place a guess, I'd say he was more freaked out about the idea of you losing one more person, because, you know, my brother does like to shoulder everyone else's burdens."

Elena blinked, considering that possibility.

"How would you feel, if you were in his position?" she asked quietly, surveying him, noticing how he seemed to tense up at her question. "How would you cope if you knew you only had so much time left to you?"

Damon glanced at her, then away, then back at her, considering the question in depth. He tried to put himself in his brothers shoes, having woken up to find the entire world had had a vision of the future and he hadn't.

"I would probably be doing the exact same thing he's doing right now," he confessed. "Freaking out. Only...I'd be doing it so much better than him. If you've only got so much time left, why not completely push the boat out and just annihilate a town or two?"

Elena stared stonily at him.

"That isn't funny, Damon."

"No it isn't," he agreed, "but then again we are comparing apples and oranges here, aren't we? When Stefan spirals, it's like someone's literally thrown him off a cliff edge. He goes over, and doesn't stop falling, while others might at least try and grab hold of something – anything – to slow down, or at least lessen the impact of the fall."

"I'm scared for him, Damon," Elena confessed, emotional. "After my parents died, he was there for me in a way I can't explain. He became the reason I got out of bed every morning. He made me happy." She shrugged, looking miserable. "I just – It's hard finding out the person who made you strongest is also capable of falling so hard."

"Hey." He gripped her shoulders, lifting her chin, so her eyes locked on his. "This isn't your fault. Stefan has a flair for dramatics. When he's off the people blood, he's at the extreme end of broodiness. When he's on it..." He gestured helplessly. "He's always at either end of the scale, never in the middle. He should've used the years spent crippled in self-loathing into controlling the blood lust, not fighting it."

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes; it was so hard hearing this, but she knew the truth couldn't be sugar-coated from her anymore. It was time for her to grow up and hear the truth, no matter how unpleasant it was.

"We have to help him, Damon."

"And then what?" Damon raised an eyebrow. "He'll always be in danger of falling off the wagon again." He looked her up and down, fighting his own desires. "Besides, I can sort of relate to my brother. He's going crazy over what he didn't see, whereas I'm going crazy over what I did see."

Her eyes widened fractionally.

All of a sudden, she became fully aware he was still cupping her face. A deep flush coloured her cheeks, but she loathed to pull away, if not for the fact this was the most intimate contact she'd had in a while. She forgot it was Damon, forgot he had his own list of crimes on his record, forgot she was supposed to be mad at him at how difficult he was making it for her to hate him when he was being like _this –_ gentle, caring, sincere.

She became aware of the attraction, and it was like coming into contact with an open wire. The sparks weren't visible, but they were there, and she knew that just touching what was surely dangerous could prove to be fatal. But the desire burned inside her like an open flame, only it wasn't as easy to put out.

The sound of the door opening soon broke whatever moment had built between them.

"Elena?" came the sound of Jeremy's curious voice. "What's going on?"

She swallowed loudly, still not daring to peel her eyes away from Damon's.

"I'm fine, Jer. Is Jenna okay? Do you need me to help?"

"Nah. She's fine. Crabbier than usual, but I think she deserves to be."

Finally, Elena turned her head to stare at her little brother, who was observing the scene before him with narrowed eyes, his focus specifically on Damon, and she knew the compulsion was making him feel connected to Damon, even if he didn't know why.

"I'm going for a walk," she said, providing an explanation as to why she was still out here. "Damon and I just ran into each other."

"Uh-huh." Jeremy looked a little absent-minded to her. "Okay, I think I need to head back inside. Don't be too long, 'kay? I think we're supposed to cook for Jenna, and out of the two of us, I think you're the only one who knows...recipes and such." He snapped himself back into the present. "Me? I can barely handle toast."

"Don't let Jenna catch you saying that, considering you've been ribbing her about her cooking since forever," Elena warned half-heartedly, her mind still otherwise preoccupied.

"I'm smarter than that, 'Lena. Give me some credit," Jeremy snorted, before retreating inside.

Elena exhaled sharply, before turning back to Damon, who bore a funny look on his face; a mixture between jealousy and exhaustion.

"What?" she asked, worried.

"Nothing." He gave her a brief smile. "I just wish my brother was as easy to deal with as yours."

* * *

><p>Katherine was bored.<p>

She hated being bored, particularly when she rested in the lion's den, her fate resting with the sullen looking vampire sitting opposite her, nursing a Bourbon between his hands.

"You're staring," Klaus stated flatly.

"You've not given me any toys to play with," she pouted, tense, aware a bored Klaus was often a deadly Klaus. "What'd you expect me to do? I'm stuck here."

"That you are," he said, a brief smirk hovering on his face.

Suddenly, he shifted, something on his expression changing, presumably due to some sort of plan formulating inside his head. Katherine felt herself stiffen, realizing whatever it was Klaus had planned must involve her, due to the fact he bore a grin like the Cheshire cat's.

Instantly, he was in front of her, his intentions clear.

She attempted to close her eyes, but she could feel his fingernails scrape lightly against her bare legs, and she shuddered, the motion causing her eyelids to flutter open. He locked his gaze on her, and she was instantly under his spell.

"You know who has the moonstone don't you?" he questioned fiercely.

She felt helpless as she gave her answer.

"Yes."

"You knew all this time I was sending my witch out on a...well a witch hunt, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"So...who has the moonstone?"

"Mason Lockwood."

Klaus frowned, the name unfamiliar to him, but he knew it didn't matter, the familiarity of the name. All he knew was what he had to do, though he loathed doing it, knowing it was once again throwing a spanner into the works.

"Okay, this is what you're going to do, sweetheart," he said, once again locking eyes with his prisoner. "You're going to find Mason Lockwood. You're going to persuade him _by any means necessary _to find the moonstone for you. You are going to bring the moonstone back to _me _as soon as you can. Are we clear?"

She blinked. "Yes."

He smirked.

"That's my girl."

* * *

><p>Elena walked, but her head felt no clearer.<p>

At one point, fear, panic, and confusion fused into one emotion, and she had to stop, overwhelmed by everything. The month's events caught up with her, and a half sob burst its way out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Damon was consuming her every thought, and that frightened her. She should've turned her attention to the bigger problem here – Stefan. She should've been seeking him out, turning her attention into helping him, but all she kept thinking was that her vision, though far from becoming reality, was slowly developing into a possibility.

She breathed in and out slowly, trying to keep herself from falling apart. She tried to think of the positives – at least Damon wasn't being a self-righteous ass here, at least he was trying to help, or at least keep up the façade that he cared... or was that a negative point? Was him being helpful all of a sudden a _good _thing, or did it just throw everything she'd ever believed to be true up in the air, to be questioned thoroughly because nothing made sense anymore?

She stared aimlessly around, vaguely aware of the sounds of building work going on around her, but somehow she felt like she was a million miles away into the future.

She tried to scrutinise her vision.

She'd felt loved, safe, and secure with Damon in it, which had been a huge surprise.

Could it be possible compulsion had played a part in making that vision turn out the way it had? No. She had to dismiss that as a possibility; she'd felt too sure of her own feelings for it to have been manipulated, and were those lengths Damon would've gone to just to claim her?

Maybe, but somehow doubting him, even if it was only for a split second, seemed wrong, given all he'd done to help her so far. She wasn't one to dismiss his good points at all, and hadn't she been willing, at the beginning, to overlook the war between him and Stefan – not knowing at the time, of course, what it stemmed down to – and assess him as a character fairly, and without bias? Hadn't she been initially _charmed _by Damon, how he'd had all the behaviour of a gentleman – kissing her hand, almost wooing her with his language use, showing her around his house with an air of authority she'd been impressed by – and, at the same time, still managed to possess that roguish façade which had, admittedly, gotten the old Elena's attention.

Elena scowled, hating how he'd gotten under her skin like this. How had he done it? That blistering moment between them, outside her house, had left a mark upon her skin like a bruise, one which refused to fade away.

Combined with this frustration was a heartbreaking burst of love for Stefan. She mused over the ramifications of Damon's words earlier, wondering if the reason behind her lack of vehement protest over them was because she'd already begun to believe him, or because so much in her life right now was going so tragically wrong right now that if anything, she would've found any sort of good news whatsoever to be the hardest thing to believe.

She stiffened suddenly, a slight change alerting her to the fact she was no longer alone. Turning around, she was perturbed to find nothing was wrong, and that in itself was a pretty disturbing conclusion to reach. Having expected the worst, she found she'd been programmed to instantly suspect everything, which meant she couldn't relax. Not even for one second.

She turned back, stifling a horrified gasp at what she'd turned back to see. It was like a mirror had suddenly appeared, with only a few slight differences between herself and reflection.

The picture, as it'd turned out, had been nothing to go on at all. Katherine was _identical _to her, in every single way, apart from the fact while Elena preferred to labour for (sometimes) hours to straighten her hair, her doppelgänger seemed to prefer wild curls. Other than that, and the outfits they wore, they were the same, and this completely threw her, and she actually found herself shaking, frightened by what she was seeing.

"Well," Katherine drawled, giving her a scathing glance. "As looks go, I think I got the better package." A cruel smile crossed her lips. "I'm glad we've finally met, Elena. I've been very interested in you. Or, more specifically, what you've been doing with my boys."

It took Elena a moment to speak, and when she did, it was nothing to do with what Katherine had said at all.

"How do we look exactly like?" she stammered, absolutely astounded.

"I'm sure we can discuss that later, but right now, I need to use our unfortunate situation to my advantage," Katherine said, eyeing her necklace with too much interest.

She reached out and snapped it off, causing Elena to step back with alarm. She was now vulnerable – vervain free – and given the fact her doppelgänger hardly seemed like the kind of person to not take advantage of that fact, she found herself wanting to do something – _anything – _to get herself out of there.

Katherine retrieved something from her pocket – a white stone, round, and fairly small in size – and handed it to Elena, who looked confused. Her eyes then locked on her, and Elena began to realize exactly what was going on here, but the pull of Katherine's gaze meant she couldn't escape.

"You're gonna go home, maybe curl your hair or something." Katherine's cruel smile widened. "If anyone asks, you fancied a change in style – god knows you need one – and then you're going to take this to this address." Katherine revealed the address, and Elena had no choice but to process this. "Klaus doesn't know I've been ingesting vervain since arriving into Mystic Falls – can't be too careful these days – so I've had to sit pretty, and do everything he wanted until I got an opportunity." She smiled. "As you can see, I took it with both hands."

Elena couldn't drag her gaze away, and there was this peaceful haze over her that she couldn't fight – couldn't _break –_ which meant she was left feeling both terrified and at the same time utterly indifferent to her own fate.

"You're not going to say a damn word to Klaus," Katherine continued to instruct. "He'll figure out it's not me within a matter of moments, but it won't matter. Because I'll be gone, and he'll have both his doppelgänger and his precious moonstone. Not that you'll know what any of this means just yet." She tilted her head to one side, examining her with interest (and not just a little bit of spite). "Got all that?"

"I got it," Elena replied dutifully, blinking rapidly, staggering back a little, as though a spell had been lifted, realizing she'd been staring at essentially thin air for a few moments.

And even though she'd just come from home, she turned on her heels and headed back in the direction she'd just come from, tugging at her hair absent-mindedly, suddenly fancying a change of hairstyle.

* * *

><p>"You didn't have to come and join the mollycoddling club," Jenna grumbled half-heartedly, resting on the couch, absent-mindedly flicking through the channels. "I inflicted this damage on myself; doubt I'm going to come back and attempt to finish the job."<p>

"I want to be here," Alaric assured her, smiling, flexing his neck, which still felt sore and stiff. "Where else am I gonna go? My drinking buddy is out of commission, I wanted to be here for her." He winked. "She taught me how to have fun again."

"Oh, it's a sad life when you consider fun to be drinking in the afternoon and hanging out with a woman who actually managed to _stab _herself," Jenna joked, wincing as she leaned forward to put the remote control down.

"I can get that," Alaric insisted, reaching forward, accidentally catching her hand in the process.

There was a moment that followed which simultaneously robbed them of breath. As their fingers brushed against each other's, there was a dawning realization shared between them that their vision _had _involved each other. Jenna looked at Alaric, and even though she'd _known _the truth, it still gave her a punch-to-the-gut feeling that he would never get to be a part of her world that way.

She imagined a baby with some of his features, perhaps his ridiculous quiff – that almost made her laugh for a moment (stupid mental images) – or his gentle eyes, and it broke her heart even more.

Alaric, meanwhile, liked the feel of her hand in his. He upturned her palm, and stared at it, somehow hit with the image of a tiny infant's hand in his instead. He knew Isobel had never professed any desire to have children, but he had, although he'd never really lost himself in that particular dream, accepting the fact he'd wanted Isobel first, children second. He would've sacrificed the second to keep hold of the first.

"You know I never thought about stuff like this. Kids," Jenna confessed, being the first to break the meaningful silence between them. "I always figured if I could get a man, get a decent career, I'd be all set for life. My screwed up background always put me off wanting more. I was a settler."

"What changed?"

Jenna's eyes swam with tears.

"The day the entire world black out, and I saw that baby. That perfect, beautiful child, who would've had the most screwed up mom ever."

Alaric moved closer, until he was kneeling on the floor beside her, still gripping her hand.

"I screw up dinner. I screw up taking care of Jeremy and Elena," she continued, tears falling down her cheeks as she spoke. "And now I've screwed up any chance to have a baby."

And her head fell down, as her shoulders started to shake. Alaric, having dealt with the hysterical, and often irrational, outbursts from Isobel, suddenly was at a loss what to do. He still barely knew Jenna, but was slowly getting to know her. And suddenly, in a world surrounded by chaos, they'd been thrust together, in an almost impossible to imagine situation, united by this one dream neither of them had shared.

It was the stuff novels were made of. As a history teacher, however, he only knew how to deal with facts and figures, not this, so all he could do was comfort her as best he could, holding her hand and hoping – no, _praying –_ that he could find a way to make her smile again.

And all thoughts he'd had of getting revenge on Damon Salvatore – that smug, sanctimonious bastard – disappeared from his mind.

From what he'd heard about him anyway, Damon had had a vision, so why should he go screwing up someone else's future, when his own pretty much hung in the wind anyway?

* * *

><p>Katherine felt pleased with herself.<p>

She'd managed to get rid of two of her biggest problems – Klaus, and Elena – by killing two metaphorical birds with one equally as metaphorical stone. She was so glad she'd managed to ingest a lot of vervain before Klaus had captured her, and it proved that no matter how far ahead Klaus reckoned he always was, she was one step ahead of him.

Look how long she'd evaded him so far.

She needed to head out of town, and soon, but first she had to say goodbye.

The Salvatore Boarding House loomed ahead of her, all picturesque and cosy, like the house she'd never wanted. She could hear Damon rattling around his cabinet, searching for the strongest liquor no doubt, but curiosity led her towards the back of the house, where Stefan was.

She'd had time to straighten her hair, don some clothes that dull-as-dishwater Elena would've worn, and with the state Stefan was in, he couldn't even discern the difference. His eyes were raw red, and so was his mouth, and he was digging a hole in the ground that looked too large to just be where he stored the bodies of his animal kills.

"Stefan," she asked, putting on her best 'Elena' voice, grimacing at how drippy and sad it sounded to her own ears.

"Oh, God." Stefan looked at her, and she felt a pang of something just watching him come undone in front of her. "Elena – I ..."

Instantly, he was in front of her, burying his head against the crook of her neck, his arms wrapped around her, and she couldn't help but respond, because, god, it had been too long since he'd held her this way. Okay, he believed her to be her sad excuse of a doppelgänger, but Katherine was going to take what she could get.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to act shocked, but at the same time maintain that level of naïve understanding Elena always seemed to adopt (she'd been watching her, and that act got old fast).

"I just – The blood," Stefan gabbled, clutching at himself uselessly. "It's just... I can't control myself. I attacked you. I'm pushing everyone away. I just..." He ran his hands through his hair. "I can't deal with this!"

"Ssh," she soothed, locking her arms around him, massaging the back of his neck, the way he liked (all the while wondering if Elena had figured out that was his weak spot at all). "We'll get through this, Stefan. I promise."

She had this wild fantasy that maybe he _could _see through her, and that he was putting on the act to give himself the illusion of something safe, when really, all he wanted was the wild. She'd loved him back in 1864 for what he'd been – perfect gentleman – but she couldn't deny she'd been aroused during his ripper phase, and she'd had to restrain herself from showing up.

Stefan had been, and always would be, her weakness. She would go to her grave before admitting that, but he was. She loved him, and that had never changed.

"How about we get out of town?" she suggested, cupping his face with her hands, suddenly sensing another opportunity. "Get you away from here."

He blinked, and she sensed she was losing him, because that wasn't something Elena would've suggested.

_Damn it. _

"What about Jenna and Jeremy?" he asked, confusion clouding his eyes. "What about _school?_ Elena – I could hurt you again. Why would you even - ?"

She put a finger across his lips.

"Because it'll always be you, Stefan," she whispers, wondering at which point her Elena act had crossed over to her Katherine act. "Maybe we just leave for a little while. Until you can get back on track."

Or not. Personally, she preferred Stefan when he wasn't hovering on the edge, but rather riding it out, and enjoying it. She'd forgotten how little he seemed to smile these days.

Stefan seemed to grimace before asking the next question.

"What about... Damon?"

Katherine hesitated, because this was where she had no idea what Elena would've said. She was vaguely aware her doppelgänger was drawn to Damon, but beyond there she couldn't have said for sure what was going on. She hated not being in the know, so she just had to make the best go of it as she could.

"He'll be fine. I only care about you, Stefan," she murmured, tracing a finger across his lips. "I can't stand all this angst and drama between us. I just want to...get away. This town is driving me nuts. Please."

He wiped the worst of the blood from his mouth, still looking doubtful.

"And you'd go with me? Even though I'm absolutely the last person you'll be safe with?"

"I knew what I was getting into when you told me about vampires." At least, she _hoped _Stefan had been the one to 'fess up, otherwise the conversation would be awkward from that point onwards. "I can handle it."

Finally – and to her relief – Stefan seemed to agree, and she realized that maybe getting him out of town might be what saved him from dying.

"Okay?" She kissed his lips fiercely. "I love you, Stefan."

He threw his arms around her, and she still had to marvel that the deception was working, although she felt uneasy about it.

"I love you, Elena. So much."

_Yeah...just sent Elena marching to her death, and I'm lying because I love you so much it frightens me, _she thought, pursing her lips thoughtfully. _Guess we both want to believe in second chances so much, we're both buying into this lie._

From inside the house, she heard a glass being hurled against a wall, and began to wonder whether there wasn't more to Damon and Elena's relationship than she'd first figured.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Ha ha, guess who's back! I really love this story, but am finding it so hard to write it at the moment. But got a big block of inspiration today, so thought I'd upload this chapter up right now. Just to clear a few things up about the chapter; yes, that was Stefan burying a body, because right now everything is just messing with his head, poor guy; Maddox was sent to fetch Stefan, as you'll recall in another chapter, but he'll be off on another mission now, and next chapter we'll see how long it takes Klaus to figure out his new prisoner isn't in fact Katherine. Keep reviewing and I'll try and update this sooner! Love you all! :)**


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